Just Before Dawn
by love.devil.movies.baby
Summary: Sequel to "Death Becomes Her." The Joker is out again, and the game continues, with some new players. One one side, It's Tanya, Batman and Gordon. But who has the Joker recruited? Will Tanya be able to win, or will she lose the game, herself and Gotham?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Once again, I own nothing associated with or involving the DC characters or Batman. The only thing I have to my name is the DVD, my imagination and some spare time between classes.

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_It was as if someone had muted the world. All sense was dead to her . There was no crowd, there was no bomb, there was no warehouse. There was only the struggle._

_She scuffled and rolled, scarcely feeling her limbs connect with concrete and discarded steel pipes. The only thing she felt was the sheer adrenaline pumping through her veins as she landed blow after blow. Her opponent was not the only victim. She too was taking a beating. Her arms and legs showcased a myriad of crimson scratches. Her clothing was torn and ruby droplets stained the material at her shoulder where she had been bitten._

_This was no schoolyard scuffle. It was a brutal battle, with both sides intending to kill. Eyes were blackened, lips spilt, hair pulled. The fight raged on, no end in sight._

_A particularly vicious kick to the torso landed her on her back. The world momentarily slid into darkness, but was quickly regained. Her opponent was above her, giggling like a mad man. Hands closed over her throat with the intention of killing this time. As the entrance to her windpipe became constricted, black and white spots danced in front of her eyes. Flashes of the last few hours, the last few weeks, filled her mind. Red chased away the black and white as unadulterated rage filled her. She grasped the short length of lead pipe near her hand. She swung without discretion or mercy, connecting with her assailant's head. Her foe collapsed, dropping like a stone to the smooth, grey floor. She kicked the body aside and rose, blood pumping furiously in her veins. _

_She looked down at her vanquished foe, makeup smeared and marred by blood. The rest of the world returned in a flood, like water bursting forth from a dam. She was cold, she was tired, and she was in pain. As she stood, knuckles raw and bloody, her body sore, beaten and bleeding, the din of alarms and terrified screams raging in her ears, Tanya Heathrow couldn't help but think that she had won the battle but had lost the war…_

**12 weeks earlier….**

Tanya's hands were tangled in the once-green hair of the man who was kissing up her torso. Though she was trying to keep quiet, she was unsuccessful. She couldn't help it. With every touch, sounds burst forth from her lips that she never anticipated. It was ridiculous, what he was doing to her. She had vowed it would never happen again, but here she was. His hands were sliding down her back, coming to rest on her backside. He pulled her up gently, smiling as he kissed her, preparing her for what he was going to do next...

Tanya jolted awake. She sat upright in bed, her chest still heaving. Her hand came up to cradle her head. Shit. That was the third dream like that this week. She didn't understand it. It would have been different if she had been dreaming about a normal person, like Jim. But no, she was dreaming about a mass murderer. Disgusted with herself and her weakness, she threw aside the covers and padded over to the bathroom. Her fingers groped for the light switch, washing the room in a warm glow. The counters were made of marble, adorned with antique brass, silver and even some inlaid gold. It had been her bathroom for over a month and a half now, and the novelty still had not worn off. It looked as though she were in a five star resort.

Bruce Wayne's entire house looked like that. No, not house. House was not an appropriate word to describe it. Neither was mansion. His home was like some kind of cross between the Taj Mahal and a fairy tale castle. It sat on the outskirts of Gotham, freshly reconstructed, gleaming in the backdrop of the Gotham skyline. It had belonged to the Wayne's for centuries and after it was destroyed, Bruce Wayne had built it again, exactly the way it had been in his childhood. Well, almost exactly. There were a few additions, mostly in the caverns underneath the mansion. Tanya had seen them a few times, but had never really explored them thoroughly. That was not her territory. She twisted the faucet on, splashing her face with cool water. She rubbed the back of her neck, inspecting her reflection in the large, ornate mirror. She looked tired. She sighed. Of course she looked tired. That was what happened when you didn't sleep. She made her way back into her room, the plush carpet feeling fabulous under her bare feet. The king sized canopy bed creaked as she lowered her weight onto it. She flopped onto the mountain of pillows, willing her body to relax. It was no use. She tossed and turned, the same way she did every night. When she was awake, all she thought about was him, how she could stop him without losing herself. And when she was asleep, her dreams alternated between the horrors she had seen and a certain other circumstance.

No one knew about that day in the car besides herself and him. She knew she should tell Bruce, and she fully planned to, but so far, she was unable to bring herself to do it. It had been over a month now, and the images were still haunting her. She would like to have been able to say that she was torn with regret over what she had done. Part of her was. But part of her, the primal, selfish part of herself that she was beginning to fear, did not regret it. That part cherished the memory, created others similar to it. That part of her was looking forward to the next encounter.

Tanya had already decided that there would be no next encounter. She was disgusted, ashamed that she had allowed it to come to that. Was she so attention starved that she had so willingly allowed it to happen? Or worse, was he right? Did she love him?

She shook the thoughts away. They were painful and called into question her sanity. They also frightened her. There game was still on, and soon, the stakes would be raised; more players would be brought in. She believed herself to have a solid ally. It wasn't him she was worried about. It was herself, her weakness. She sat up warily and glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand. The fluorescent red letters glowed at her out of the darkness. 3:15 am. That was at least an hour's more sleep then yesterday. Satisfied, Tanya rose, shrugging on the robe draped over the chair in her room over her pajamas. She opened the door and crept down the long hallway and down the spiraling staircase.

The stairs, like everything else in the mansion, were gorgeous. If she had been a princess, or a girl meeting her date for the prom, they were the perfect place to make an entrance. They were situated in the middle of the room, the focal point of the entire house. They also distracted wonderfully from the rest of the room, including a small, inconspicuous door in the corner. Through the door was a study, a rather boring and routine looking room with shelves and books and a small wooden desk in the corner. It looked like an antique, and indeed it was. But inside of one of the drawers, if you knew what you were looking for, was a small lever. Tanya was searching for it now, running her hands along the polished wood of the inside of the desk. Her fingers trailed over it, and she grasped it, giving it a gentle tug. Underneath the desk, a small hole opened up silently and seamlessly. Tanya bent down and climbed in, marveling at how the motion sensor lights turned on and off as she made her way down the ladder. The entrance had closed nearly the instant she had gotten through the hole.

Tanya dropped to the ground, her bare feet connecting with the smooth stone of the floor. She knew he was here somewhere. He always was. Bruce Wayne slept even less than she did. Being the Batman was a full time job. She turned the corner, coming into view of a row of tables adorned with gadgets and gizmos that were all lethal looking. Alfred, Bruce's butler, father figure and close friend was seated at one of them, tinkering with what looked like a ninja-star-shooting arm pad. Tanya knew that Bruce had someone on the outside who created all of this for him, but for that person's safety, and her own, she was kept ignorant of his identity.

"Up again Miss Tanya?" Alfred always called her 'Miss.' He claimed it was British manners. It had started off as 'Miss Heathrow,' but she had weaned him away from that, finally compromising on 'Miss Tanya'.

"I could ask the same thing of you, Alfred." she situated herself in the chair to his left.

"Ah, but we Brits don't need sleep. We have stamina in droves." he teased in his cockney accent. Despite the lateness of the hour, his silver hair was immaculate, brushed and parted, and he was in his trademark suit. Even Bruce could be seen wandering around in a t-shirt and jeans at times and Tanya, now without an occupation, rarely wore heels or a suit anymore. But never Alfred. He was a creature of extreme habit and extreme loyalty. Tanya was fond of him.

"Well, we can't all be British. Some of us have to suffer the indignity of being perfect." he laughed at he small insult.

"Well played, Miss Tanya." he chuckled but quickly sobered. "Tell me, what is it this time? Another nightmare?" he stopped tinkering long enough to shoot her a look through his fashionable rectangular spectacles.

"Something like that." it was honest enough. Alfred, of course, didn't buy it.

"Something like that…" he musingly repeated. "Dreams fade in time, Miss Tanya. All kinds of them." he looked away, refocusing on fitting the sharp blades back into the arm cuff. Tanya suspected he knew exactly what kind of dreams were keeping her awake. She contemplated telling him.

"Alfred," she began.

"Yes, Miss Tanya?" he asked conversationally, still focused on the task at hand.

She was interrupted by the sounds of a motor echoing through the caverns. It looked like the master of the house was home. The Batpod roared as it rolled onto a platform meters away from where the pair sat. Batman, lesser known as Bruce Wayne, stepped off of his vehicle. She knew he had come in through one of the other entrances that were on the grounds, and possibly one outside of it. It was a nightly ritual in the home of insomniacs. Wayne had been going out on crime-fighting errands for a while now. It was apparent that he also had some plan of action for when the Joker escaped. Tanya didn't know the details. Although the two were on good terms with one another, the nature of Tanya's relationship with the Joker worried him to a point where he rarely confided any sort of plan to her. Tanya wasn't insulted, she thought it rather smart. No one could be completely trusted in these times. Except perhaps Alfred. He bridged the gap between the two of them with his dry sense of humor and his uncanny ability to be able to say precisely the right thing at precisely the right time. He stood now, ready to greet his employer and surrogate son.

"Good Evening Master Wayne. I trust your night was successful?"

"Hit and miss, Alfred. The police got in the way again." the police force had doubled its efforts in searching for him, completely disregarding the fact that Batman was still chasing criminals, not police officers. Gordon tried to quell their efforts, but it was critical for him to look impartial to the public. Wayne needed a man he could trust heading the police department.

"They'll give up eventually." Alfred said reassuringly. "In the meantime, do you plan on getting any sleep?"

"Not while he's on the loose, Alfred. Not when Dent is still around." he had dropped his trademark growl. He sounded tired, human, not the superhero the public saw. Tanya felt for him.

"I figured that much." Alfred sighed slightly. "Well, as long as you're up, help me with this. I can't get the bloody things back in." he gestured to the bat-shaped blades on the table.

He laughed, a strange, joyful sound to be coming out of the bat-shaped mask. "Sure, just let me get out of this." He moved past them to change. "Tanya." he said by way of greeting as he passed her.

"Hey Bruce." Alfred continued to tinker, leaving Tanya to her thoughts. She and Bruce had entered into an alliance in the last few months, to the point where he had allowed her to live with him to protect herself and to allow her to isolate herself from nearly everyone else. Tanya was extremely thankful for this, but she and Bruce hadn't become what one could describe as best friends. They were often uneasy around each other, unsure of what to make of the other. She knew Bruce didn't know what to think about a woman who showed unusual resilience to the Joker and she was not sure what to think about a man who chose to dress up like a bat and fight crime. It wasn't that they didn't like each other. Bruce was likeable, if not a little serious and morose at times. It was just that they both knew that there was something about the past that the other was hiding. It made things a little tense at times.

Knowing that when Bruce returned he and Alfred would need to speak alone, Tanya stood up.

"What do you say I go start breakfast, Alfred?"

He smiled at her. "If you'd like, Miss Tanya. I'll be up soon to join you." she nodded at him, giving his a small hug. She made her way up the ladder again and into the kitchen. The world outside was that gorgeous shade of navy that colored the landscape in those hours when no one was awake yet. Tanya had quickly discovered that this was her favorite time of day. Unlike twilight, where the world was darkening, the day coming to a close, this time didn't possesses that eerie quality. Instead, it was peaceful, the calm after the witching hour, when even criminals were at home. It was a fresh start to the day. It gave her hope.

Tanya moved about the kitchen, making pancakes, her favorite (and Bruce's apparently). She thought briefly of her family, and decided that it was time for her to write them again, the only contact she could keep that they couldn't trace (she didn't need them to come looking for her). She also thought briefly of Jim. The pang of guilt over what she had done to him came back. She swallowed it down, convincing herself that it was what was best for him. He didn't need a confused woman who attracted psychopaths. He would find someone, a woman who deserved him, who didn't fantasize about encounters with the Joker.

She sighed, flicking droplets water over the hot griddle and watching them dance. As she spooned batter onto the stove, she looked out over the horizon and the just blossoming sunrise. The light was streaming through the large glass windows of the kitchen, lighting the grounds and all of it's beauty. The world looked like it was filled with a warm hope that Tanya wished she too could feel.

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**A/N: Ok, so while I have a little bit of free time, I started a sequel. Fingers crossed that I will be motivated to finish it. We'll see. I think I will call this a teaser, sort of an introduction. Whether or not I keep going depends on how much positive feedback I get. So, If you like it, drop a review. If not, well...why did you start the sequel then? :)**


	2. Escape

The Joker was sitting up on his bed, waiting. It was time to get out of here. He had a month of rest, more than enough of a break between performances. He was ready to get back to work.

His jaw twitched a little bit. She was late; he didn't need a clock to tell him that. She knew she was late, he was sure. She was probably rushing down the hall, afraid of the consequences. So eager to please.

He heard the guards stir at the door, the well-oiled creak of the cast-iron door as it swung open. There she was. The guard was smiling at her. He scoffed on the inside. They were so easily taken in by a beautiful woman. Doctor Harleen Quinzel smiled graciously at him, clutching her notebook, her leg bent in an innocent posture. The door swung shut.

The good doctor sat in the chair across from him, poised as though for their daily appointment. Dr. Quinzel, or Harley as he called her, was indeed beautiful in a traditional American sense. She was petite in frame, with long blonde hair that she kept in a low knot at her neck. A few strands were left free, framing a heart shaped face and big blue eyes. She had an overall air of innocence about her. This, combined with the unusual nature of her name, made her the perfect target for the Joker. He had started working on her the second she walked in the door. It was his idea of a joke, twisting her mind. He needed the practice anyway, it had been a month since he had any fun.

Her response was instantaneous. He knew it would be. She was obviously a woman attracted to power, to a certain degree of danger. She had volunteered to analyze him, a request that her male colleagues were quick to grant her. He had roped her in that day with unwavering eye contact, and just like Dent, her fall into madness was all too easy. He made her laugh; he challenged her, he dominated her. And she loved him.

Yes, Harley Quinzel was beautiful and she was in love with him. Most of the men saw her as above them, someone out of their league. The Joker saw her for what she was. A useful tool, someone he could control, manipulate, then set loose. Another pawn in his game. She was looking at him now, sickening adoration in her eyes. He sighed inwardly. She could try to make it a little harder.

"You're late." he kept his voice hard, un-amused. Inside he was laughing, especially when she stammered out an apology.

"I'm sorry. It took longer than expected to do what you asked." her mouth gaped open and shut. Her expression could only have been mirrored by a kicked puppy.

"So you did it then?" she nodded.

"Of course." he held his hand out expectantly. She eagerly reached into her pocket and deposited a small metal rod and a small, fabric bag in his hand. She looked up at him, waiting for his approval. He obliged her.

"Very good." he lowered his voice to a deep purr. He stood up, easily dwarfing her 5'3" form. She stood up too, quickly, nearly hitting the top of her head on his chin.

"Do you need help with that?" she gestured to the bag.

"No, I can do it." he reached out and touched her face. "Wait for me. You'll know when it's time." she nodded eagerly.

"I can't wait." she smiled sensually at him and batted her lashes, a well-practiced routine he was sure melted other men. He just nodded at her and turned around, already rooting through the small bag. Sensing she was dismissed, Harley turned and left the room, heading for the garage under the guise of having an appointment elsewhere.

The Joker listened to her leave. She was so easy to control. All it took was a few rants about how she was what he needed to control Gotham, a few touches, a few gentle words. All in all, he treated her like shit. And she lapped it all up, eager for more. With every passing day, her obsession with him only increased ten fold. He sighed. It was true, he did need her, at least for now.

When he achieved his true goal, then Harley was disposable.

He opened the bag, extracting the small round containers of white and black, and a tube of lipstick. He applied it effortlessly, with no mirror, a routine almost second nature to him. He wiped his hands on the white fabric of his government issued jumpsuit, feeling more like his old self. He fingered the metal piece in his hand, musing over it for a moment. It wasn't lethal in the hands of perhaps anyone else. But in his hands…He smiled at its purpose, then began rubbing it along the concrete corner of his bed. In about ten minutes, it was sharpened to a point.

It was time. He climbed on the bed, using the metal to unscrew the bolts holding the grates over the poison gas vents. With the grate free, he tucked it into his suit, then began yanking the hose inside of the wall out. As expected, it didn't begin dispensing gas immediately. He folded the hose over, and drug it the few feet to the door. The Joker wedged the lips of the hose under the door then unbent the middle. The clear gas was only visible through the small ripples in the hose. He leaned against the door, tapping his foot patiently. He heard the thump of the guard at the door falling. He listened expectantly. Ah, there it was.

The first door opened, with the other guards rushing in to see what happened. The buzz of white noise over their walkie talkies signaled that Harley had done her job. A guard went running off down the hall to solve the problem. It was only minutes now. He heard another go down, then a few others before the door he was leaning on began to be pried open. He smiled. God, they were predictable. He flipped the metal piece over in his hand.

The door swung open. The first guard through was unlucky enough to take the now lethal weapon in the jugular. Before he had even hit the ground, the Joker had the guard's gun in his hand and opened fire, strategically picking off the remaining three. With the guards all dead, or dying, the Joker stepped calmly through the melee. He fished the keys off of one of the guards, and a security card. He left the door wide open, striding ahead of the gas into the elevator. He knew what floor he needed to be on.

The elevator dinged pleasantly as it opened on the fourth floor. The Joker walked confidently through it, opening the door to all of the cells in his path, many of who's occupants were still asleep. Finally, he reached his goal. He swung the door open.

"Hello." he smiled widely at Harvey Dent.

Fifteen minutes, three floors, and several dead guards later, they were in the van, Harley at the wheel, Dent and the Joker in the back. The van was white and unmarked, so as not to alarm citizens when transporting prisoners. It was the perfect getaway car. Dent was snarling in the back, his eyes flicking over the passing surroundings with a psychotic urgency. The Joker ignored him, and the woman driving the car, stealing occasional glances in the rearview mirror. He wiped his blood splattered hands on the now soiled jumpsuit and pulled it off, further smearing his makeup. He reached for the folded suit on the empty seat to his left. Harley was reliable. He pulled it on, one piece at a time.

Harley was watching him hungrily through the mirror. "Where to boss?" she sounded out of breath. The Joker didn't answer right away. He looked around, taking a mental inventory of the gasoline barrels in the corner. It would be enough.

"The courthouse." he instructed, tightening his tie. Dent was still ranting under his breath, twitching like a madman. The Joker watched him interestedly.

"My coin," he muttered, "I want it. I want my coin." The Joker raised his brows in amusement, but looked to Harley. She reached on the dashboard and passed a small object backward to him. The Joker took it and slapped it in Dent's palm. Dent instantly brought it to his face, turning it over in his hands inspecting it frantically. Satisfied, he pressed what was left of his mouth to it, visibly relaxing. His un-lidded eye snapped up to look at the Joker.

"Why'd you let me out?" he still had the tone of a politician, a man used to being respected. The Joker just laughed.

"You've got some scores to settle. It'd be a shame if you never got a chance to settle them."

Dent's face twisted, one side curling into a smile, the other a terrible baring of teeth.

"And you?" Dent questioned.

"I'm going to take care of the pesky courthouse." he patted a barrel to his right. Harley laughed, desperately trying to be included in the conversation. The Joker shot her an obliging look.

His plan was in action. He didn't need to go to her. He knew where she was; that would be too easy. No, this time she would come to him…

Let the game continue…

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Across town, Tanya was sweating, laying flat on her back. Bruce was standing above her, jumping back and forth slightly.

"Come on" he urged. With effort, she forced herself to flip up in the way he had taught her. She arched her back and kicked out, managing to land on her feet, and reassumed a defensive posture. Wayne bent his knees, assuming the same position, though with much more grace. Breathing hard, Tanya struck out. Wayne easily parried her blows.

They went back and forth, Tanya striking, Bruce blocking. Tanya was winded, despite the regularity that they did this. One of the conditions of living in Wayne Manor was that Tanya take daily lessons from Bruce. These lessons were almost always in combat. Tanya was in the best shape of her life, but she still hadn't managed to even hit Bruce without him anticipating it.

He told her not to worry. He had a lot of experience in combat. Tanya had a few bruises to show for it. Alfred sometimes watched, sportingly applauding her every time she got in a good hit. She appreciated it. Most often, she came out of these sessions tired and a little dejected.

"You're doing well." Bruce assured her. "You might not be able to beat me, but I assure you, you can kick a bunch of people's asses now." it was a rare compliment. She smiled at him. He patted her on the back, giving her a sort of awkward hug that she awkwardly returned. He pulled a shirt on over his rippling physique.

"Come on, let's see if Alfred left any pancakes for us." Tanya nodded, motioning that she was just going to take a shower first. She allowed the hot water to wash the soreness out of her limbs, relishing in the feeling. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the side of the tiled shower. A flash of the Joker flitted through her mind, not with makeup, but the almost caring looks he occasionally graced her with. Annoyed, she snapped her eyes open and quickly finished washing. She was getting really sick of this. She needed to tell someone. Then maybe the memories would stop haunting her.

Sounds of alarm outside of the bathroom, and her name brought her hurtling out of the shower. She swung a robe around her still wet body, sprinting down the hall, puddles of water trailing behind her. Bruce and Alfred were stationed at the large window in the kitchen, staring at the billowing tower of smoke rising from the center of Gotham. A familiar feeling washed over her.

It couldn't be, not so soon. She had only had a month…

She swayed on the spot, fighting for control. Bruce turned and looked at her, the expression on his face mirroring her thoughts.

"Well," Alfred said lightly, "back to work then." Bruce nodded at him, already running for the study.

"Tanya stay here! Help Alfred monitor the news so I can find him." She barely heard him.

No, no, no! It played frantically in her head, getting louder and louder, shutting everything else out. Alfred's hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality.

"Come now, Miss Tanya. Let's end this, shall we?" she nodded, swallowing the fear.

The game was back on, but this time, she had allies.

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**So now, the plot can officially begin. Thanks for those of you who reviewed! Please, if all of you could just review with a little constructive criticism, that would be great! It helps me keep the story going. **


	3. TwoFace

Tanya was bordering on hysteria. She was situated in a section of the bat cave she had yet to see before now. It was well-lit and jam-packed with technology that Tanya was fairly certain that even NASA had yet to obtain. Along a wall was a series of television sets that spanned a distance greater than an IMAX theatre. Flashing across the screens were images of every major intersection in Gotham city, complete with sound that could be focused on a certain image. It was overwhelming but Alfred seemed totally at ease, accessing information and flipping through screens. It must have taken more than a month and God only knows how much money. She assumed that this was what Bruce had been doing for the last few weeks.

The screens quickly confirmed that the explosion was stemming from the courthouse. That was straightforward enough, and thankfully, it was early enough in the day that the building had yet to be opened. Tanya figured that the Joker had blown it just to send a message that he was back. Right as she began to calm herself, a series of other chaotic events became apparent. The Joker had not only escaped, but released the other occupants of Arkham as well. The news was issuing alerts and warnings that everyone should stay inside if all possible for their own safety. School children had been sent home, and most places of business were shut down.

He had done all this, and it had only been a few hours. It was absurd. Gotham remembered what it had been like when the Joker had control and as a result had taken an every man for himself mentality. The Joker had effectively created a free for all, with minimum effort on his part. So far, he hadn't even been visible on the screens. But massive chaos was.

She heard Batman's voice through an audio feed in Alfred's ear. The exact words were indistinct, but Tanya strained until she could get the basic gist. It seems that Batman had checked Arkham Asylum first, trying to get a hold on who had escaped. The only two who were not accounted for were the Joker and Dent.

Tanya exhaled. That was expected. Bruce had to have had a plan, he was sweeping through the city with distinct purpose. She watched him stop in several locations before he zoomed off of the monitors all together. Alfred seemed unconcerned, speaking frequently into a mouthpiece connected to a listening device. Tanya felt useless and out of the loop; she suspected Bruce wanted it this way. Alfred never changed the decibel of his voice, only uttering cryptic affirmations. He glanced occasionally her way, offering small, comforting smiles.

Something said into the earpiece caused Alfred to hastily begin rooting for a bag in the storage cabinets of a table. With a strangely calm urgency he retrieved what looked like a large, very filled, black duffle bag. Grasping its fabric handles and apparently straining just slightly under its weight, Alfred addressed her. It was the first concrete words Tanya had heard in the last hour.

"Master Wayne needs my assistance in a private matter. I'll be back in a few hours." Tanya tried not to be indignant, but she was really getting annoyed with the secrecy, and very panicked.

"Did he get the Joker?"

"I don't know, Miss Heathrow." the panic increased. Surely he would know exactly where she was; he said himself that he knew she would tell Bruce Wayne. She wasn't ready to confront him yet. She couldn't be alone.

"Please, I don't want to be alone."

Alfred looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Miss Wayne. But I really must go. You'll be fine. I turned on the highest security system. Just stay here. I'll be back soon." he patted her shoulder comfortingly. "He won't get in, I promise." he concluded, the strode quickly from the area.

Tanya was left, sitting under the blue fluorescent lighting, trying to regulate her breathing. The images of chaos didn't help and she found herself sprinting to the bathroom that Alfred had pointed out to her off of the side of the room. She hurled the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl several times before she could calm herself enough to clean herself up. She submerged her face in cold water, desperately trying to gain control. She lifted her head, coming face to face with her weary reflection and the reality of the situation she was in.

She didn't know why she was like this. She had faced the Joker before, and for the most part had come out unscathed. She could and would do it again. It occurred to her that in the past months she had been lulled into a false sense of security, isolating herself in the comfort of Wayne Manor, relying on Batman's protection. She was content to let others fight her battle for her; to watch Bruce leave nightly with some plan she had no interest in knowing.

She was hiding, like a coward. The thought nearly made her sick again. She glanced backward out of the door and back at the screens. The chaos was coming to a sort of conclusion as firefighters quelled the blaze at the courthouse. No more, she decided. No more cowering, letting other people take the heat for her. She could end this. And she would. She washed out her mouth and rooted through some cabinets, finding some sweat pants and tennis shoes. She hastily dressed, throwing on a t-shirt that Bruce kept on hand just in case.

She was dressed and ready for action. Tanya realized that she didn't know where to start. She could go to the courthouse, but the Joker was likely long gone and all she would encounter would be a multitude of law enforcement officers with a multitude of questions. She scratched that plan off of her list. Cradling her head, she brainstormed for a while. Alfred had asked her to stay here; clearly Batman did not want her involved in whatever it was he was doing. She should comply.

Her first step when he got back was to tell him the truth. The whole truth, unabridged, shameful as it might make her. If she wanted his help, she needed to be honest. The nervousness clawed at the bottom of her stomach. A half hour of waiting passed, with Tanya glancing up at the monitors idly. Something caught her eye.

It wasn't a major thing, but it drew her attention instantaneously. She stood up on her toes, craning for a better look. One of the screens, a white, unmarked van had pulled up, and a passenger had gotten out. The van peeled off before she had time to register the plates. But the van was unconcern. The figure that had emerged was what held her attention. It was a man, blonde haired and reasonably tall. She watched him casually stroll into a building, another government facility of some type. She realized it was the D.A.'s office, a place she had been on more than one occasion. The way the figure moved wasn't right. She could tell he was trying to be casual, but he was jittery and his eyes kept darting to and fro, only the left side of his face visible to the camera. She realized in a panic who it was. Frantically she searched the table in front of her for a phone. She slammed the headpiece Alfred had been wearing on, trying in vain to contact anyone. The figure disappeared into the building. Horrified, Tanya suspected what he was going to do.

Without thinking about it, she rushed out of the room, leaving the buzzing headpiece on the table. She hurtled out of the cave and into the living room where she shoveled the contents of her purse back onto her arm, including a phone and her car keys. She was in the garage in another minute. Bruce's impressive collection of custom cars gleamed at her, including a Lamborghini, several BMWs and other expensive cars she didn't recognize. She palmed her keys, going through the aisles, searching for the one unimpressive car. She piled into her Honda and threw it in gear, tearing out of the garage and through the gate.

The freeway was blessedly traffic-free, with all of the frightened civilians at home. She floored it, disregarding common traffic laws. Her body pumped with adrenaline. Tanya prayed she would get there in time. She sped through the streets of Gotham, covering a trip that should have taken a half hour in just over ten minutes. She threw the car into a parking space just across the street from the D.A.'s building and tore across the street. She paused at the door, realizing she had brought no weapon with her and had no plan of action.

Steeling herself, she quickly pulled out her phone and texted a quick message to Bruce and copied it to Alfred.

"Saw Dent on monitor at D.A.'s. Couldn't wait. Sorry." she flipped the phone shut and charged in.

The lobby was empty and deceptively quiet. She walked up to the visitor's desk and peered over. The sight nearly bowled her over. Two guards, one bleeding freely, another bound and gagged, were behind the wood of the podium. Tanya quickly was behind them, untying the man.

"Dent!" he gasped immediately in shock. "He came in, flipped a coin, shot my partner!" his voice was frantic and Tanya forced him to be more quiet.

"Is he still here?" she asked while feeling for the other man's pulse. It was there, albeit weak. He had been shot in the chest, just above the heart. The man groaned, a confirmation that he was at least breathing. The guard nodded at her.

"Quick," she hissed, dropping the keys to her car in his hand. "Take him and run across the street. A white Honda is in the parking lot there. Take him to a hospital. Get help." the guard nodded, already pulling his smaller partner into his arms. He handed her a gun from his holster.

"What about you?" he added as he stood.

"I'll be fine. Go!" she nodded to the gun. The guard needed no further encouragement as a series of pops erupted upstairs. Tanya watched him go and then stood up to watch the monitors on the security station. The second and third floors seemed undisturbed, save for a few people trying vainly to contact security. She saw the phone with several red lights flashing. She picked up the receiver.

"What's going on?" a frantic female voice whispered loudly.

"An emergency." Tanya kept her voice steady in contrast to the women's. "I need you and everyone on your floor to quickly and quietly exit the building through the stair well." a light on the desk was indicating that the elevators were not functioning. "Don't take anything, just get out. And for God's sake, stay quiet!" the woman hung up. Tanya assumed she was listening. She snuck a peak one more time at the monitors, noticing that Dent was wandering down the hall to the fifth floor, toward his old office. Tanya cocked the gun, praying she would know how to use it if the need arose.

She ran toward a door labeled "Stairs" and opened the door slowly. Swallowing her fear, she began the long climb, taking the stairs two by two. Along the second floor she encountered the troop of evacuees.

"Where's the security?" one of them exclaimed in a loud whisper.

"Injured. Just get out and get help." Tanya instructed, not slowing her pace. The man in front nodded, corralling the people and forcing them to move faster.

At the top of the stairs, she hesitated on floor five, partly to catch her breath, and partly to calm her stomach. She was really going to do this. She crept out into the hall. Satisfied that it was empty, she began quietly moving her way in the direction of the D.A.'s office. A noise caused her to pause. It was the voice of Gilbert Tompkins, the newly elected D.A. and head of the prosecution against the Joker. He was screaming. She sped up, bursting into the room old-western style, guns drawn.

Tompkins was sweating in the corner of the room behind the desk. He was balled near the floor, an expression of unadulterated terror written across his face. Tanya focused on him for a moment, before the source of the terror made itself apparent.

"How's the job treating you, Gilbert? It nearly killed me." Dent was snarling, advancing on Tompkins.

Harvey Dent turned around, flashing his disfigured face. Tanya nearly dropped the gun in shock. She had seen him of course but now, up close, it was worse. She was used to the poster-boy Harvey Dent, the white knight, the beacon of hope in Gotham. He was always put together, always confident, always cool. But this man in front of her was the opposite. One half of his face was the same, but the overall demeanor was gone. What was in it's place was what could only be described as psychotic. He had come completely unhinged in the wake of the accident. God, what had the Joker done to him?

Dent turned and smiled at her, a horrible sight. Tanya recoiled backward in horror, dropping the gun to the floor. It clanked to the ground, firing off a round that soared past Tompkins. He screeched and fell farther to the ground, barely missing the bullet. It crashed through the window. Dent was coming toward her now, the sneer pasted on his face. She stumbled backward as the fear bowled her over, nearly tripping on her own two feet.

"Well, well, well." Dent's voice was still pleasant and baritone, the tone of a politician. "It's Miss Heathrow isn't it?" Tanya locked her eyes on Tompkins, silently pleading for him to do something. He refused to meet her eye, instead standing and slinking toward the now-broken window. Tanya realized that no help was coming and dove for the gun. She was cut off by Dent's well aimed kick to her abdomen. She hit the ground with an grunt, the gun skidding farther away, past Dent and toward the desk.

The world spun with fear and panic. Tanya looked up at her assailant. Dent's face swum in and out of her blurry vision. Behind him, she saw Tompkins drop to his knees, crawling toward the desk.

"Call it. Heads or tails?" Dent was holding a half dollar, grinning. Tanya wondered vaguely what he meant. In the background, Tompkins stood up triumphantly, the gun in his hand.

"Burn in hell you psycho!" The gleam in Tompkins eyes clearly said that he had been waiting for a Clint Eastwood moment like this his whole life. Dent rounded on him, not hesitating before he hurdled at Tompkins. In blind panic he fired, loosing the clip. Tanya hunkered down, sheltering herself behind Dent. He took a few rounds to the chest but remained unfazed, still advancing. Tanya rolled into a ball, shielding her face from the shards of wood, concrete and drops of blood spraying at her. A chunk of wood bounced up from the hardwood floor, creating a gash in her leg. She screamed in pain, but her cry fell on deaf ears.

Tompkins had emptied the gun and was now stumbling backwards away from Dent. Dent was bleeding, but apparently had an incredible threshold for pain, He reached Tompkins, flipping a coin as he did so.

"Tails," Dent smiled drolly at him and raised the gun.

"No!" Tompkins yelled himself hoarse, looking at Tanya for assistance. Unlike him, she answered, limping rapidly across the room and jerking Dent's arm up, causing the bullet to fly askew and miss. Dent backhanded her. She stumbled to the ground, narrowly missing hitting her head. She watched as Tompkins panicked, looking from Tanya to Dent frantically. With a look of resigned horror, he turned toward the broken window.

"Tompkins, don't!' Tanya realized what he was about to do. He shot her a sympathetic look, then jumped, effectively abandoning her with the murder. Tanya did not have time to register the horror of her situation nor to hear the sickening smacking sound and the screams from down below. They were drowned by the sirens of law enforcement finally arriving and the banging as the door to the office was thrown open.

"Dent, Jesus, what the hell are you doing?!" a short, blonde woman was positioned in the doorway, screaming at Harvey Dent. She looked at Tanya, a look of utmost loathing flitting across her classically pretty face.

"Stop messing around with this bitch and let's go!" she instructed. Dent looked down and out of the window calmly. Apparently content with what he saw, he turned and made his way out of the door. The blonde woman lingered for a second more, glaring at Tanya through those cold, blue eyes. Tanya tried to get up, wondering who the hell this bitch was and why she was giving her that look. The woman moved forward for a moment, before Dent seized her, nearly dragging her from the room.

Tanya got up the moment they left, trying to get out of the room before someone else arrived. She was forced to limp, dragging her bad leg behind her. She stumbled over a hole in the ground, pitching forward head first. She struggled for consciousness, pulling herself to the door on all fours. It was becoming increasingly harder and she felt weak from the massive blood loss from her leg. The door was flung open again, but this time by a caped crusader. Tanya looked up at him through a haze, allowing herself to black out just as gloved hands reached for her.

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A/N: It took a while to coax that chapter out of my brain. It took a while for inspiration to come, but I'm on a role now, so hopefully the next chapters will rush out of me. Thank you to all of you who reviewed; you have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one of your comments!


	4. Secrets

Bruce Wayne had a secret. Tanya was sure of it. It wouldn't had bothered her if it was the normal kind of secrets he kept from her, like why he decided to dress like a bat and swoop around the city fighting crime. This was a deeper secret, a secret that Tanya had a feeling she should be aware of. It wasn't that anything major was out of order. The house functioned just the way it always had, and Alfred and Bruce had taken to treating her like fragile porcelain. Her leg was cut; she wasn't disabled. But they insisted on making her rest, confining her to her room and serving her food there. Their actions hadn't aroused suspicion. In fact, it was completely by chance that she had come to her conclusion. She was being babied, told to stay in bed and she had jokingly quipped.

"Jeez, the way you guys are keeping me locked up, you'd think you were hiding something from me." It had been a split second exchange. Bruce's laugh was a little too loud, his smile a little to strained. Alfred had coughed and quickly excused himself from the room. And Tanya was left, laying on the bed, wondering what the fuck was going on.

She let it ride for a week, telling herself that she was just overreacting. But she couldn't deny it any longer. Both Bruce and Alfred disappeared at odd intervals in the day with either weak, or no explanation as to their destination. And the trips they made seemed to be occurring more often. It didn't add up, especially since Bruce never made the trips as Batman. She knew they kept secrets, but this… this was driving her insane.

One of them always stayed with her, under the guise of keeping her company. Any chance of tailing one of them was out of the question. She had to come up with another way. The answer came while she was sitting with Alfred in the caves, watching him tinker with some complex piece of equipment. He was chatting lightly, distracted by his task. Tanya took the opportunity to seize a small tracking device similar to ones she knew Batman used to tack his enemies. It was easy to slip it into her pocket. Carrying out the rest of the plan was harder. She limped to the garage early one morning, trying to keep her crutches quiet.

She stood, staring at the rows of cars, wondering which one would be most likely. She ruled out the Lamborghini and a few others based on their flashiness. Which car was most inconspicuous? The answer came to her in a moment. Parked next to her modest little ride was an equally modest (or at least in comparison to the other cars) Mustang. She made her way over to it, briefly admiring the sleek, black paint and the gold trimmed interior. She quickly located the bumper, applying the adhesive side of the device far enough underneath it that it wasn't visible unless you got down on your hands and knees and looked for it. Satisfied, she crept back up to her room, where she was expected to be.

It hadn't turned anything up immediately. Alfred took it to the grocery store, and a few other boring spaces. But two days later, something was out of the ordinary. The car was in a lot full of storage containers. She map quested it, discovering that it was owned by Wayne Enterprises and used to store excess parts. It was inconspicuous, and it was perfect. Now to shake the men long enough to check it out…

That part took even longer. It was a week before the deemed her leg healed enough to let her drive and they still insisted that she stay in the house. Meanwhile, out in Gotham, the Joker remained conspicuously absent, but Dent was causing enough uproar to make it inconsequential. No one could find him, but his little stunt at the DA's office had exposed him for what he was. The city was, in a word, pissed. They yelled that the government had lied and covered up what Dent was. Politicians insisted that they did not know. Some people cried for Dent's coffin to be opened, to make sure that the new menace was really him. Others yelled that the prisoners he had helped incarcerate should be let out. The only bright spot was that it became clear who had really killed the people all those months ago, and it wasn't the Batman. Of course, the heat was not off of him entirely. Many included him in their conspiracy theories, shouting that he had deceived them as well. Tanya suspected that this was true, but could not help but see the reasoning behind it.

Dent turned out to be as elusive as the Joker. Neither had made an appearance, or at least had been seen. A few cops began turning up dead, as well as some government officials and even journalists. Some survived to tell the tale. The victims all had one thing in common. Dent flipped a coin to decide their fate. Heads you lived, tails you died. So far it had been about fifty-fifty. But none of the survivors could ever provide any information about Dent's whereabouts. He was like smoke, attacking at people's homes, places of work, parking lots, anywhere. Batman couldn't even locate him. The same went for the mysterious woman Tanya reported seeing. Her description was too vague and common to go on alone. As a result, Bruce walked around in a frustrated bubble.

It was the distraction Tanya needed. She snuck out one day, shaking off Alfred while Bruce was at Wayne Enterprises. She was able to pull into the lot, and made her way through a maze of large, grey, metal storage containers, finally coming to a battered and slightly rusted red one. It was locked. She circled it, looking for a sign, wondering why this one was one of the few colored sheds. It was also near the center. It had set off her radar. She fumbled with the lock, trying to pry it open unsuccessfully. She was so occupied that she didn't hear footsteps behind her.

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat behind her. She jumped, startled, dropping the chain and lock so that it swung into the shed with a clang.

"Alfred!" she exclaimed, holding her heart. Alfred was indeed standing behind her, eyebrow cocked, looking for all the world like a parent who had just caught a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Are you sure you should be out here in your condition, Miss Heathrow?" he stepped up and seized the lock, turning the key nonchalantly.

"I--I just was going out to get some air," she stuttered her excuses before a thought occurred. "How did you know I was here."

"There's a tracking device on your car. Master Wayne thought it would be a good idea, since you are so prone to attracting…less than commendable characters." he chuckled quietly, removing the chain holding the door shut. "The question, Miss Heathrow, is why are you here? And how did you find out about this place? It's no place for a stroll."

"I…" she looked down, embarrassed, but decided to tell the truth. "I put a tracking device on the Mustang."

"Ah," Alfred looked unsurprised. "And why is that?"

"Because it seems like you and Bruce are hiding something." she kicked a pebble, avoiding too much eye contact.

"And the answer to what we are hiding is in this shed?"

"That's what I figured." she felt stupid.

"Well then," he pushed the door open. "Shall we take a look?" Tanya was surprised but followed him inside. It was large and spacious, but empty except for a few crates of something unknown and a bunch of schematics rolled in tubes in the corner.

"Want to look around?" Alfred asked. Tanya shook her head, feeling foolish. A half hour later they were back at the mansion, seated on the couch, eating sandwiches and watching talk shows. It was comforting.

"Hey Alfred? Where do you think the Joker is?"

"I really can't say, Miss Wayne."

Tanya sighed. "It just seems like him being gone like this means that he's planning something really bad. It's almost worst, sitting around waiting for him to make a move, then to have to face him again."

"What makes you think he's looking for you?" Alfred looked at her. "Perhaps he has lost interest."

"I doubt it. He would never give up the game like that."

"The game?" Tanya paused, realizing that she had to tell him now. She took a deep breath.

"We sort of made a deal a month or so back." Alfred kept his face from betraying judgment. "It was the last card I had to play. It keeps him from killing me, or anyone in my family."

"I see, and what are the stakes?"

"If I win, he has to stop and turn himself in. If he wins, he gets me."

"Get's you?" Alfred sounded alarmed.

"It's kind of like a battle for souls. He wants to corrupt me. If he gets his way then I'll be…" she trailed off. There really was no need to say what she would be.

"Well," Alfred stood up, gathering their two plates, "We better make sure that you win then." Tanya smiled at him. It was nice to have the weight off of her chest, or at least half of the weight.

"Are you planning on telling Master Bruce?"

"Yes. When he gets home."

__________________________________________________________________________________

Tanya was getting yelled at. This was unbelievable. She was trying to keep her cool, maintain some semblance of calm. But if he kept going, shit was going to hit the fan.

Bruce Wayne had a lot of damn nerve.

Was he yelling because he had to save her? Oh no, that wasn't it. Saving people was his job, and he did it well. The source of his anger was more ridiculous than that. She had told him what she told Alfred. The result? He thought she was in on the plot to destroy Gotham. He was disregarding the fact that she had nearly gotten shot, saved a bunch of people and threw herself between Dent and his victim. He didn't trust her.

Tanya knew that. But this, after all she had been through in the past year, and he was going to accuse her of this. It had started with a seemingly innocent question. How had she known what Dent was about to do? That was all he asked when he visited the room where she had come to, discovering that her leg was stitched up and she had been cleaned up.

So she had explained her panic attack and how she started watching the monitors to calm herself down and how she had seen what she saw. She had figured that would be enough. She was wrong. Bruce was firing question after question at her, his voice rising exponentially in timbre, until it looked more like an acquisition than a friendly chat.

"I don't trust you." he was saying now.

"Well obviously." she snapped back, irritated and insulted. "I just don't see what I did to make it that way."

"It just doesn't add up." Tanya rolled her eyes. Bruce was near fuming, obviously trying to pry something out of her that she wasn't willing to share.

"What doesn't add up, Bruce?" she snapped back. Her leg ached dully with a pain that was forgotten in her anger. He had a lot of nerve; he had just as many secrets, if not more, than her. How dare he call her out? She contemplated stomping out of the room, getting her things and leaving. She clenched her jaw together.

"Why this game? Why doesn't he just kill you? How did you know where Dent was that day? Why did you visit him in Arkham? And what happened that day he picked you up at the grocery store?"

"The grocery store?" Tanya felt her heart freeze in her chest.

Oh God. He knew.

* * *

**Still writing, but it is getting busier and busier so the updates may get farther apart. Thank you so much for reviewing!**


	5. Revelations and Reunions

A thick silence settled over the room, perforating every corner and smothering Tanya. She struggled to keep her breathing normal. Bruce was staring at her, not with haughty triumph, but with a disappointed look in his eyes.

He took her silence as an answer. "That's what I thought." he sighed and rumpled his hair, thinking. Alfred was posted in the corner, watching the situation unfold. He and Bruce exchanged eye contact, silently contemplating their next move.

"I'm not on his side," Tanya interjected quietly.

"The evidence isn't in you favor." was Bruce's response.

"But it can be in yours." She added quickly, the gears in her head spinning. "You were right all those months ago. He does care about me. You can use that."

"How do you know he's not just gaming you?" Bruce's question was well founded.

"I'm not that interesting; he'd have gotten bored by now." Bruce and Alfred looked skeptical. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. He has had so many opportunities to hurt me, to kill me, and he doesn't, and he promised he never would. Why would he do that?" the men looked slightly swayed, but still shook their heads.

"I don't know. But it's too much of a liability. You could be working for him--"

"I'm not!" Her shrill cry cut through the air. Bruce's hand went up to silence her.

"Or he could use you against your will to bring us down. To bring Gotham down."

"I would never do that." it was true.

"But you obviously have feelings for him of some type. He could use them against you the same way you want to use them against him. If he has any feelings." he added bitterly.

"Just give me a chance. I'll go out, I'll draw him out and you can capture him. Then it will be over." she was close to tears. "Please," she pleaded.

Alfred and Bruce looked at her, then each other.

"Just give us a moment, Miss Tanya." Alfred spoke his first words since she had told Bruce her secret. She nodded, trying to leave the room with dignity and dry eyes. Her control only got her to the hallway. She slunk down, cradling her body and letting the tears flow. She chocked down sob after sob, wondering about her fate, questioning her sanity. The men talked for upwards of 45 minutes, and Tanya cried the whole time.

Finally, spent and numb, she pulled herself off of the marble tile in the hallway and shuffled to the bedroom. Systematically, she began gathering her belongings, packing her clothing back in the boxes she still had in her closet. She left the room, made her way down the spiral stair case, box in tow, and was halfway to the garage when Bruce caught up to her.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, looking from the box to her.

"Away." the tears had evaporated now, leaving her hardened.

"You can't." Bruce said this as though it were simple.

"Look, I appreciate all that you did for me the last month, but--"

"You know too much. Even if you won't tell, someone could torture it out of you. You have to stay." damn it. That was a good point.

"Me staying will just draw the Joker here that much faster. You can put me somewhere under constant surveillance. But I can't stay." she was fishing for an excuse to leave.

"The Joker won't come." Bruce said this as though it were a fact.

"How could you know that?" she raised an eyebrow, her suspicions instantly aroused.

"Because, Miss Tanya, the Joker isn't going to be going anywhere for quite some time." Tanya hadn't even noticed Alfred come in. He was in the doorway, folding a shirt that must have fallen out of the box on her way down. He and Bruce exchanged a brief second of eye contact and Alfred gave a barely discernible nod.

"We have the Joker." Bruce delivered the news point blank.

"You have the Joker…" Tanya repeated musingly. For some reason, the point just wasn't clicking.

"As in, we have him in captivity." Bruce's tone was somewhat harsh. Her confusion (and certainly her now semi-public relationship with the Joker) was obviously perturbing him.

"For how long?" the confusion had subsided and now the shock was setting in.

"Since the day he escaped." Alfred interjected.

"What? And no one told me?!" she dropped the box. It made a dull thunk as it hit the tile.

"Well, obviously no. We couldn't trust you."

"Why didn't you ask me before, if you already knew?" Tanya was trying to keep her temper in check. Bruce was doing exactly what she would have done in his situation.

"I didn't know, I suspected. And why didn't you tell me?" Bruce raised and accusatory eyebrow.

"Because! It's embarrassing! There's not a day I am not torn up with shame! If you suspected, why did you let me move here?" She already knew the answer.

"To keep an eye on you." the blunt truth.

"And, did I pass the test?" her voice was tinged with a hint of malice. Everyone was playing a game with her, even people she thought were her allies.

"Well, that depends on one other thing, Miss Tanya." Alfred had stepped forward.

"And that would be?"

Twenty minutes later, she was blindfolded in the back of Bruce's Mustang. She didn't know where they were going, but she had a decent idea. The sound of metal grinding on more metal confirmed it. She kept her mouth shut though, allowing Bruce to guide her to their destination. Several minutes later, light shone through the dark cloth masking her face. As the industrial lights clicked on, they each made a resounding sound that echoed through wherever they were. The next sound concerned Tanya more.

"Ah, you brought me a friend?" she would have recognized the voice anywhere. It haunted her nightmares, crept into her fantasies and was the source of much turmoil. The Joker.

Surely enough, when the bandanna was removed, there he was. He was tied to a chair in the dead center of a large concrete room, barren except for a shower in the back corner. An odd sensation of deja-vu crept over Tanya. Only this time, she wasn't the prisoner.

"You coming to join me, sweet pea?" he was looking directly at her. She felt her heart rate speed under his glance. Bruce ignored him, moving in front of her. For the first time she noticed that he was in costume. Bruce was gone, the Batman was at work. Alfred had helped her bring her things back to her room and Bruce had gone to get the car. By the time she was in the car, she had been blindfolded. It was dark outside, and his windows were tinted. No one would have noticed the Batman in the Mustang. Alfred was also absent in the concrete room.

"Still wearing the mask, eh Brucey?" The Joker looked at him, a cocky smile playing at his lips.

Batman ignored him. Instead, he produced a chair out of nowhere. Placing it in front of Tanya and motioning for her to sit down. She did so, keeping her nerves in check. She knew her instructions: get him to talk. That was all Bruce said she had to do. If only earning his trust would be that easy.

"You look better than ever." the Joker greeted, giving her a greedy once over.

"You look like shit." it was the truth. He was filthy, hair matted into a messy mass at the top of his head, dried blood on his face, hands and clothing, cuts at his writs from the handcuffs. The smell was even worse. She wondered vaguely if that was how she had looked when he had held her in captivity. The parallels of their situations hit her. He was a horrible person, but Batman treating him like this struck her as odd. Did two wrongs make a right?

"Ironic, isn't it?" he smiled wickedly at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"Yeah." it was all she could think to say. Batman was still watching them. The Joker seemed unperturbed, but Tanya felt otherwise. She couldn't get over his appearance. He looked pathetic, and it was distracting. She needed him to look somewhat presentable. She felt like him when he had imprisoned her. It wasn't fair. She wouldn't be like him.

"Can I clean him up?" she questioned over her shoulder, her eyes on the tub in the back corner.

"If he'll let you." Batman growled.

"An eye for an eye, eh love?" he winked at her. Batman strode forward and seized his chair, dragging it across the concrete floor. A terrible squealing sound wrought the air. It took effort to not grimace. Tanya followed from a safe distance, watching Batman lift the chair and deposit it, Joker and all, into the tub. He flipped on the water, causing the overhead faucet to spew liquid directly on the Joker's head. The Joker sputtered for a moment, looking slightly pathetic under the onslaught of water. He kept his face impassive, and in that instant, Tanya knew exactly what she had looked like months ago in the same situation. She steeped up, seizing a bottle of soap from a shelf near the tub.

"He can't bathe in his clothes."

"I'm not going to unhand cuff him." Batman sounded dead serious.

Tanya sighed, "Alright then, at least let him sit in the tub like a semi normal person." Batman pulled him up, his handcuffed hands straining against the back of the chair they were chained to. Quicker then Tanya could perceive, he had un clicked the cuffs, pulled the Joker off of the chair, clicked them back, and dropped him roughly to the bottom of the porcelain basin. Tanya then took the reigns. She pulled the jacket off, with the assistance of some scissors, then the vest, his shoes and socks. She hesitated when she came to the pants.

The Joker grinned at her. "What's wrong?" he asked innocently, his eyes twinkling. She shot him a warning look, then jerked them off, thanking God that he was wearing boxers. Those could stay on. She forced him back, washing the green filth out of his hair, then his face. She squirted the rest of him with the liquid soap, then essentially hosed him off with the detachable showerhead. Satisfied that his smell would no longer be distracting, she looked back at Batman. Taking his cue, he stepped forward pulled the Joker out of the tub and plopped him back onto the chair.

The Joker didn't shiver in the chill of the room. He sat, dripping and shirtless and stared directly into Tanya's eyes, a corner of his mouth upturned slightly. He looked almost like he had on Christmas, and that day at the grocery store. She found it distracting. She hid it though, more from Batman than the Joker.

It was time to get him to talk.

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A/N: Sorry that took so long to get up! There is a lot of dialogue I know, but hopefully once this is out of the way, I can get onto some action. Updates are still going to be slow; school is kicking my butt. But thanks for all of your patience, and for your reviews!


	6. The Acquisition

The cool draft of the room prickled and pebbled the Joker's wet skin. His naked torso was exposed to the chill, but he didn't shiver. Cold, pain, those were things he was all used to; they didn't bother him anymore. You get to a point where it no longer phases you. He had long since passed that point.

It was easy to shut it out. You just lock up feeling, all feeling. People said they didn't know how that could happen. They didn't know where he came from, what he had been through. He barely remembered himself. Yes, when you shut it all out, it gets easy.

He just went wherever he pleased, did what he wanted to. If he got caught, it was because he wanted to. If he killed you, it was nothing personal. Nothing was personal.

Except maybe this one in front of him. She was looking at him now, a deep look in her eyes, as if she was trying to see through him. Trying to read him.

She was the closest person who existed who might be able to read him.

The other in the room, he was coming along nicely. He had known he would capture him. He also knew exactly what he would do to him. It didn't bother him being dirty and tied to a chair. He had experienced worse. And it meant his game was coming along nicely. The Batman was one step closer to breaking.

He knew that if the Bat snapped, he would likely be killed. But he would have won the game.

Unfortunately, another factor was now playing into it. It was the woman in front of him. He couldn't win the game against Batman until he won it against her. She was not coming along quite as nicely. In fact, she alluded his every move. He doubted she knew of her success. If she had, she wouldn't be looking nearly so wary. But she had passed test after test, rushing selflessly to stop Dent and apparently telling the Bat her deep dark secret about the two of them. And she stuck up for him when Brucey got pissed and took it out on him. Not that he needed to be protected. But she had done it anyway. He expected her to watch it all, to watch the Bat do everything to him that he had done to her. But she hadn't. Not at all.

And now she was looking at him with a sort of pitying, concerned look in her eyes. He wished she would stop. That look, those looks that she gave him did something strange to him. It was almost like feeling again.

And feeling had gotten him nowhere good. That was why he stopped feeling. He did what he wanted.

Except when it came to her.

He could have raped her, but he remembered some flash of his past self and he stopped. He was always stopping. All she would have to do was ask and he would stop. But she never begged. And he would never leave her alone. Because she woke something up in him, and try as he might, he couldn't shake it.

He wanted her. And he was going to have her, but on his terms. She would see how easy it was to give in, and eventually she would. But it was going to take work to win the game against her. Which meant he had to go easy on the Bat until then. That was the hard part. He couldn't resist waggling his eyebrows at the stoic figure in the corner. Batman made no move, but the Joker knew that Bruce was raging. He had killed his little snookums. And that was the key to this whole thing. Love would break the Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne would break Batman. But that was for a later time. He had to be patient.

Thankfully, patience was one of the virtues he still possessed.

The Joker straightened in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and shaking out his sopping mane of hair. Water sprayed out in every direction, flecking across Tanya and the floor. She wiped her face off in an unconcerned manner even going so far as to smile at his comical appearance. She quickly quelled it, looking nervously over her shoulder. Go figure, she was more comfortable around him then she was around the Batman. Score one for him.

Sick of the silence, he spoke up. "You have some questions for me, darling." he knew his pet names annoyed her. But secretly he enjoyed calling her them and he suspected she enjoyed them as well.

"Why did you let yourself caught?" it was always this question with her. He sighed, smiling at her. She knew exactly why.

"Now when has that question gotten you anywhere?" she rolled her eyes, something she did with so much energy it was almost adorable.

"Alright then. We'll start with the easy questions. Where's Dent?" her reporter face was on; he had seen it before.

"Right now?" he straightened up, looking perplexed. "How should I know? I haven't seen him since he drove off in that van. Why don't you tell me?" Tanya's eyes narrowed at him. But she didn't continue to question him on it. His response told her what she had suspected. The Joker had unleashed Dent on the city while he played his private game with Batman.

"Fine." her response was short and cutting. The Joker found it funny. Bruce was making her nervous. It showed in the small glances she shot his way, as though frightened that he was going to lock her up along with the Joker.

"I don't know what else to ask. He won't tell me anything." she looked toward the man in the corner.

"Come now, pookie, Use some of that journalistic prowess." It was the Joker, not Batman who answered.

She spun her head back around, a fire in her eyes. "Wait, I do have a question. Who was the blonde woman with Dent?" it could not have been more clear to the Joker that she had been dying to ask this question.

"Pretty isn't she?" the Joker asked in response, a slow smile creeping across his face.

"Who is she?" her voice had a sharper edge to it. Good.

"Well if I told you, that would ruin all the fun wouldn't it?" her responding look was of fury.

"Who is she?"

"I'll give you a hint," he leaned forward, ignoring her anger. "In fact, I'll give you a whole physical description. I'm sure between the two of you, you can piece it together." he jerked his head toward Batman. "She's about 5'4", she has blonde hair, a little longer than shoulder length. Blue eyes, thin lips. A certain attraction to power."

The way he said this made Tanya shudder. He noticed and smiled, his eyes taunting. He knew she was working out just who this woman was to him.

"So she has a thing for you?" Tanya spat bluntly.

"It seems to be going around." He leaned back, smirking.

"We should get together, compare notes." So she had told the Bat. Interesting…

"Well if you find her, she might not be so eager to talk. You see, like me, she hates sharing." Tanya sucked her teeth, her lips drawing into a pursed pout. So, he was going to play the game like that huh? She tried to quell that anger, the jealousy she felt.

"Did you twist her mind for fun?" she already knew the answer.

"Everything I do is for fun." He raised his eyebrows at her, shaking his head again so that his long hair fell over his forehead. Tanya was standing up, her muscles tense, obviously struggling with some emotion. She pushed her chair back and grabbed his, leaning in so that their faces were just inches apart. The Joker figured she was going to hit him. He smiled.

Instead she whispered. "I don't know what you did to this girl, but rest assured I am going to find her." her eyes flashed. "And when I'm done undoing what you did to her, I'm going to go to work on you. And trust me, it's not going to be _fun_." she practically spat the last word at him, purposely moving farther in until her lips were millimeters from his.

"I want to go now." She suddenly pulled back, letting the cold air fill the space she had just occupied. For the first time, the Joker felt himself shiver.

Batman nodded, giving the Joker a once over. He pulled a bandanna out and tied it around Tanya's eyes. The two walked toward another corner of the room. Then the lights clicked off, one by one, until the Joker was left in pure darkness with his thoughts.

Outside, in the car, Tanya was allowed to remove her bandanna once they were well on their way home. Alfred was driving, Bruce was in the backseat, his face unmasked.

"She works at the Asylum." Tanya said, knowing he knew who she was speaking of.

"I know. We'll run a background check when we get back. It should be simple enough to find her."

"I doubt it." Tanya knew finding her was the least of their worries. Fixing the damage was a different story. Bruce looked over at her, his eyebrow raised.

She shrugged her shoulders in a defeatist kind of way. "Well, when is it ever simple with the Joker?"

Bruce turned around, refusing to look at Tanya, deep in thought. She sighed and leaned back, to tired to care what Bruce thought about her. Her thought lingered with the mystery woman. She wished she could say that it was only her identity that was plaguing her. But she was jealous, jealous of what this woman was to the Joker. But above all, she was angry. Angry at the Joker, angry at herself, but most of all, angry at this woman…

The drive to Wayne Manor was silent, each of the car's occupants locked in thought.

****

A/N: I found a little time to get this chapter out on paper before the inspiration left me. Thanks to all of those reviewers! You all make my day.


	7. Love Me Back

It was another night of restless sleep for Tanya. Her nightmares were gone, her fantasies had disappeared, but in there place was something she found far more horrifying. The woman, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, they had run her through a database earlier, and had confirmed her identity. The picture that had gone with her file at Arkham was enough to identify her as the woman Tanya had seen. The face flitted in and out of her dreams, reenacting the dreams she had once had about the Joker and herself. Tanya tossed and turned, her face creased, sweat on her brow. The woman even managed to worm her way into the car scene. She woke up, angry that even that one memory wasn't sacred.

Secretly Tanya cherished the memory of the day in the car. Every touch, every kiss, every word and look was imprinted on her as something that was solely her own; it was not to be shared. That was the Joker's one human moment in all of her experience with him, the one flicker of hope she had that he could change.

Had this woman stolen it from her? Had she deluded herself into thinking that he truly cared for her? Was she just a pawn, just like Quinzel?

She flopped back on her pillows, consumed with her thoughts and fears. Unable to stand it any longer, Tanya threw her covers back and padded downstairs. She needed something to drink.

The halls were dark, but Tanya was not bothered. She was certain that life could not get worse, and Bruce had enough security in his house to keep out an army. To her surprise, the kitchen light was on, casting a soft glow in the adjoining hallway. She pushed the swinging door open slowly, coming face to face with Bruce Wayne and his mouth full of cookie. He was leaning on the kitchen island, a glass of milk and a bag of Oreos propped in front of him. He was pulling the halves apart, licking the cream off and dunking the cookie part into the glass. He looked content, child-like almost. Tanya felt her lips turn upward just slightly.

"Fancy meeting you here." she greeted. Bruce choked on the small amount of food in his mouth, a rare moment where he had been caught off guard.

"Hey," he rasped out, still clearing his throat. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No." it came out as a sort of sigh.

"Me neither. Want some cookie?" Tanya nodded, eager for the company and the distraction.

"Mind me asking what is keeping you up?" he asked after Tanya had situated her on a bar stool with her own tall, frosty glass and a platter. They had quickly divided the cookies between the two of them, and Tanya had even retrieved a container of Peanut Butter, vowing that they would work out extra hard tomorrow to compensate.

"Not if you tell me why you're up too." she responded, dunking her Oreo with vigor. Double stuffed, she noticed. Bruce had good taste in cookies. Bruce contemplated her proposition as he spooned a healthy helping of peanut butter on the side of a cookie.

"Alright." he agreed. "Ladies first."

"Ok," she swallowed a bite, washing the debris down with a cool gulp of milk. "I was having bad dreams."

"About?" he urged her on.

"The Joker." it was simple and honest enough.

"That's understandable." he didn't seem surprised. "He did some terrible things to you."

"The dreams aren't really about that." she admitted. Bruce's expression changed.

"Then what are they about?" Tanya decided to tell him the truth; lying had gotten her nowhere good.

"I can't help but wonder if I'm wrong. About him I mean. What if he can't change? Then what? I mean, he could be using me, just like you said. And now, with this Doctor Quinzel in the picture too, it seems more likely that I am just another pawn. That I've been letting him use me. That I've been blinded by my own hopes, too dense to see the truth." it all came rushing out on a wave of motion. Bruce chewed thoughtfully.

"Do you want him to care about you?" his brow was creased seriously.

"Yes." and she did.

"Why?"

"Because, if he cares about me, I can save him. This won't all be in vain. And then maybe, I can save myself too."

"Why do you need saving?"

She laughed bitterly. "You can't tell me that all of this madness doesn't take its toll. How am I supposed to have another relationship, start a family? How am I ever going to recover from all of this? How am I going to regain myself? Be normal?"

Bruce fell silent. He was concentrating intensely on his plate of cookies. Tanya mimicked him, shocked at her own admissions, things she hadn't even realized she was feeling.

"I know how you feel. I felt that way since my parents died. It really hasn't gone away." Tanya looked up at him. His face was boyish, vulnerable. "You know, I thought that maybe being the Batman would help. I would save the city, make sure nothing like that ever happened to anyone else. But its made it worse. Now we have worse villains. I don't know if I can beat them." It was honest, an open admission. Even Batman was afraid.

"You didn't make it worse. You made it better. You inspired ordinary people to stand up for what's right. You inspired me." she covered his hand with her own, forcing him to look up at her. "And you'll win. You're not alone. You've got me; you've got Alfred and you've got a hell of a lot of fed up citizens. We'll end this. Don't doubt yourself." It was a pep talk for her own sake as much as his. Bruce didn't cry, he didn't even sniffle. He just looked up at her.

"It's not just that. I wonder, if I did the right thing."

"Becoming the Batman? Of course--"

"No." he looked up at her. "Saving Dent. And not Rachel."

It suddenly occurred to her that Rachel had been much more than a friend to Bruce. He had loved her.

"You didn't know what Dent would become. You made a choice,, a choice you thought would save Gotham---"

"But it didn't."

"You don't know that. Things happen for a reason. _Everything_ happens for a reason. Even the completely shit times." Bruce nodded, looking away, blinking rapidly. Tanya did him the courtesy of looking down into her own glass. The white surface of the glass' contents rippled as both drowned their grief in cookies and milk.

__________________________________________________________________________________

The next few days passed quietly in a blur of workouts, strategizing and sleepless nights. Tanya's body had adjusted; her muscles were wiry from her workouts, and she was now confident that she could knock a good amount of people on their asses. The thought gave her comfort.

She tried not to think about Quinzel. The doctor had disappeared. Bruce had tipped Gordon about her identity and it had indeed been confirmed that she had helped the Joker and Dent escape. Dent was mysteriously absent as well.

It was the calm before the storm. They all knew it. Something big was going to go down. Dent was with Quinzel. She knew it. But where were they? The Joker had cracked, but Tanya suspected that he knew exactly where they were. But with Batman around, he wasn't going to say anything.

She lived with this knowledge as long as she could before she grabbed the keys to the Mustang and roared out of the garage. She headed straight for the warehouse. She had taken Alfred's keys and quickly enough located the key to the lock and drove the car inside. She flickered on the lights, looking for anything that would let her in. Her answer came in the pile of rolled schematics. She jumbled them apart looking for something. One didn't move. Upon closer inspection, she realized that it was a key pad. She paused for a moment, contemplating the password. Finally, with conviction she punched in four numbers:1020. She had seen Bruce stop at this time for countless nights before asking Alfred why he did it. It was the time his parents were murdered Alfred had confided.

Surely enough, the lock hissed and slid back, revealing an elevator platform. She climbed on. The light flicked on in the now-familiar way, revealing a still trapped Joker.

He looked up at her. "No bat?"

She shook her head, continuing toward him. He smiled.

"I was wondering when you would shake him."

" I need you to tell me something." she knelt in front of him, forsaking the chair in order to get closer to him. She rested her hands on his now sweat-pant clad legs. He looked at her questioningly.

"I need you to tell me where Dent and Quinzel are." he smiled.

"We've been over this." he grinned at her.

"I know. But this time you're going to tell me." she sounded confident.

"Why?" he laughed, shaking his head.

"Because," she lowered the decibel of her voice. "There's something in it for you."

"What's that?" his voice had lowered too.

"Me." she leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and sensual. Tanya took her time, enjoying the taste of his lips. She twisted her hands in his clean, dirty blonde hair, pulling herself up and into his lap. He groaned, straining against the handcuffs. She straddled him pushing herself against him fully, never taking her lips from his. Her tongue stroked him gently as she tortured him by sucking lightly on his bottom lip, finally pulling away slowly, remaining so close to him but far enough where he couldn't reach. The Joker was breathing hard, his chest laboring slightly under her. She could feel the quick, almost erratic beat of his heart under her palm.

"Are you giving up?" he breathed out the question.

"No." she shook her head, her nose just brushing his. "I'm asking you to give in." His eyes widened.

"It's not going to be that easy, baby."

"I'm also telling you," she cut him off with a lone finger to his lips. "that you were right. I do care about you. And I want you. It keeps me up at night." he looked at her like she had lost her mind. She kissed him again, sweetly as ever.

"I love you." the admission came easier than she had thought it would. It even felt good to say, to have that secret off of her chest. "love me back." she instructed, her eyes locked right on his. "Love me back," she repeated.

The Joker's eyes widened, his expression of pure shock. "Love me back," she repeated again, accompanying it with a kiss, "love me back." she whispered in his ear, kissing it, then down his neck, pausing only to repeat her breathy question. She came to rest by placing her hands firmly on his shoulders, planting a smoldering kiss on his lips. Before the Joker could even recover from her first kiss, she was up again, leaving his lap cold.

"Please think about it." she asked, brushing her hands down his face. The look in her eyes was filled with compassion, with caring, with love. The Joker, silent for once, stared up at her.

As quickly as she had come, she was gone. The lights flickered off again. The Joker knew that their were cuts on his writs from how hard he had struggled against the cuffs. His lips still burned from her touch, and it was infuriating to have the sensation of her lingering all over him, in his hair, his mouth, his lap, everywhere.

She had left him reeling. That was completely unexpected, a total wrench in his game. Her touch echoed n his face, and he longed to wipe it away, to shake the feeling away.

Shit. He was feeling. And he couldn't do anything about it. He was tied up.

For the first time in many, many years, the Joker felt less like the Joker and more like a prisoner.

He felt vulnerable.

He felt.

****

A/N: Three in two days! Or technically three days I guess. I had a but of free time, and I churned these out. Thanks to the reviewers, and I promise there is more to come.


	8. The Green Eyed Monster

The Joker was struggling to shrug the remaining piece of wood out of the back of his cuffs. The chair lay on the ground in a pile of splintered remains. It had taken some hopping and a significant amount of pain to lift himself, chair and all, and then fling it backwards to the concrete. His weight had splintered it, but it took three tries before he had crushed it. His back was certainly bruised and bloody from the effort. It didn't matter.

He stretched, popping his neck back and forth. It felt good to be up after weeks in that damn chair. He walked straight backward in the dark, finding the tub. He turned it on, stepping under the freezing cold water. His skin became slick quickly as he twisted his wrists back and forth, testing them. Almost. He managed to knock the open soap bottle on them, drenching them in the perfumed liquid. He wiggled, feeling the soap burn the cuts and blisters at his wrists, finally filling the metal shift and slide down toward his fingers. In a minute, they were off. He let the metal restraints drop to the tub bottom, rinsing his hands, face, hair and mouth.

He was almost free. He had meant to play the game a while more, but Tanya had thrown a wrench in his plan. He needed to get out, before she made his condition worse. He hated to feel.

He stepped out of the tub, drenched and shook himself dry. His bare feet left wet footsteps as he went toward the back corner he saw the Bat always disappear to. He felt along the wall, groping for any kind of switch. Instead, he found a handle. He jerked it open with a squeal of metal grinding on concrete. Instantly, a fire leapt up, betraying it as a furnace. The heat felt good on his cold skin and the flames gave off enough light for his purposes. He fed the pieces of the chair into hit, stoking the flame brighter. He saved one large, club-like piece.

He could see it now. He pushed the button, lowering the elevator to the floor. He climbed in, holding the chair leg like a weapon. Inside the shed, he swung it straight at the metal doors, barely hearing the metal bang as he fought his way out. Through the crack in the doors he made, he could see a flashlight's beam peering in. He hesitated, waiting until the doors were pulled open by security.

"Jesus man! How'd you get locked in there?" a security guard was inspecting him, his face one of horror. "You alright?" he reached for his radio, not knowing the identity of the man in front of him. He was cut off by the wooden piece of the chair as it connected solidly with his head.

The guard crumpled to the ground, bleeding from the wound on his head. The Joker pulled out the radio, fiddling with the controls until he got to channel 7.

"Hello?" he questioned through the white noise, pushing the body around with his foot. "hey-o?"

It was a moment before anyone answered.

"Hello?" the grainy voice of a woman answered. It sounded slightly breathless.

"Come and get me." it was a simple instruction, one he knew would be obeyed.

"Should I bring---"

"No, he'll blow the cover. Just come."

"Where should I--"

"5th and Jefferson." the guard at his feet stirred. The Joker didn't pause in his instruction, but smacked him again with the club, effectively silencing him.

"Alright, see you soon." the woman's words fell on deaf ears; the Joker had already switched it off and dropped it near the guard. He rustled through his belongings, retrieving a gun and the keys to the gate. Then the Joker set off to meet Harley Quinn.

She was at the meeting point by the time he had arrived. The streets had been empty and quiet, the citizens scared indoors by the last few month's events. He pulled himself into the car, a small, two-door.

"Who'd you get the car from?"

"Dent got it." the petite woman was smiling brightly at him, looking like Christmas had come early.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting the still damp and baggy sweat pants. "Let's go." The car disappeared into the dark streets of Gotham.

Hours later, Tanya was up in the late hours of the early morning, adjusting the pleat in her skirt. It had been weeks and weeks since she had last donned a suit, but her current errand called for it. Her rigorous workouts had caused her to lose weight, but luckily, Bruce kept a tailor on retainer. She spun around in the mirror again, inspecting herself thoroughly for the last time.

She was going to see Gordon. It wasn't a social visit, more of a visit to find out what in the world was going on with the investigation. But this would be the first time in many weeks that she would be back in public. She wanted to look good. It might hide her nerves.

She gathered her purse, checking its contents one more time before making her way out of the bathroom and into the hall. At the bottom of the stairs, Bruce was leaning on the banister, waiting for her. He looked rather dapper in his suit, like an advertisement in a men's fashion magazine.

"Ready?" he was dropping her off on his way to Wayne Enterprises.

"As ready as I'm going to be." she nervously smoothed her skirt again, and tweaked her jacket.

"You look fine, relax." he told her soothingly. "Here." he gestured to a device in his hands. "We'll be keeping an eye on you. And an ear."

Tanya nodded, pinning the combination mic and camera on the collar of her jacket, out of sight. Alfred walked in, car keys in hand.

"You both look ravishing," he complimented, "Shall we?"

Tanya was first to be dropped off, Alfred had taken her separately, trying to maintain the illusion that she and Bruce did not know each other. She had left minutes before Bruce's personal driver had arrived, as well as a small entourage of beautiful, boisterous and rather thin women with a taste for the "finer things" in life.

Tanya was quite glad that she didn't have to stick around to meet them. She was entering the Commissioner's building through the backdoor to avoid attracting too much attention. It was of little use. The occupants craned their necks around cubicles and desks to get a look at the former anchor who had been M.I.A. for so long. She did her best to ignore the glances as she rode the crowded elevator to the top floor and the office of Commissioner Jim Gordon.

Gordon was seated behind his desk, looking a little worn around the edges. He was massaging his temples, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. He pushed them up as she came in the door.

"Well, Miss Heathrow. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she smiled at him. Gordon always had a soothing presence, instantly calming even her most intense panic attacks.

"It's nice to see you too, Commissioner."

"Are you here for an interview?" he sat up straight and adjusted his tie.

"No, I'm sure you noticed that I don't do that anymore." she smiled at him and sat down across the desk in a leather chair. She instantly sunk into the cushions, silently enjoying the warm smell the chair emitted.

"I have. You've been missing for some time. But if there's no interview…" he loosened his tie, shoved his mountain of paper away from him and leaned back. "How and where have you been?"

"I've been alright. And safe." she added pointedly, in lieu of a direct answer.

"Ah, I see." he smiled wryly. "You and the Batman and all of your secrets." Tanya just smiled in response.

"I was hoping," she began, leaning forward, "that you might have a lead on Dent."

"Are you looking for him?" he raised both of his brows.

"Not exactly."

"Well, we're looking for both Dent and the Joker. Neither of them has shown up. But strangely enough, the trail has gone totally cold on the Joker. Almost like someone already caught him." he looked intensely at Tanya. Gordon was no slouch; he knew she was in cahoots with Batman and he suspected she knew about the Joker.

"I wouldn't know." she evaded.

"Neither would I." Gordon clearly wasn't going to spill until she did.

"Well," Tanya wasn't upset. She knew Alfred was listening in and by now how told Bruce what he heard. The ball was in the Batman's court. "It was a pleasure to see you. Hopefully, I'll see you soon."

"Likewise," Gordon stood up and shook her hand. "And tell your friend to come by and see me. It's been a while."

"Will do." she smiled at him and left. As she stepped into the elevator, her purse began to vibrate. She fished out her phone, flipping it open to read a text from Alfred.

*Had to step out, Be back in 15 mins.*

No problem, she thought. She was hungry, she might stop by the bistro next door. Her heels clicked across the linoleum tile as she stepped into the lobby. She was walking with single minded purpose: a turkey sandwich. She barely heard her name echoing through the room.

"Tanya?" someone grabbed her arm lightly. She spun in a semi-panic, her bag colliding with a man's arm.

"Jim!" she exclaimed. It was Jim. His tall form was clad in business casual attire, and his chocolate hair was freshly cut. His eyes were bright and intelligent as ever, looking at her with a state of shock. The scar, the product of their collective first Joker attack, was still there, but healed now, the same color of his tan skin.

"Hey, how are you?" he was rubbing his arm where the bag had hit it.

"I'm fine." she stammered. She was suddenly nervous. Her skin prickled with a cold wave of perspiration.

"Oh, that's great." Jim sounded equally as uncomfortable. "I've been wondering how you've been. And where you were."

"I-- I've been safe." she repeated her answer to Gordon somewhat lamely.

"That's great." he ran his fingers through his hair, mussing his hair slightly. "Do you think we can talk, about…" he trailed off.

"Jim…" she looked around nervously, before gesturing outside. The two crossed quickly and silently to the back doors and out of the building. They stopped behind a large workmen's truck.

"What do you want to talk about?" she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye.

"I guess I just needed some closure." he had tucked his hands in his pockets.

"It's complicated…" she began.

"I know." he cut her off somewhat sharply. "You've said all that. I don't care."

"That's because you don't understand." he wouldn't hang around her if he did.

"Well help me understand then." Tanya didn't know how she could.

"Every second you're with me, you're in danger. And I'm not going to watch you die because of me."

"I've been in danger for months now." he protested.

"It's more than that. I wish I could tell you but I can't. Please, just trust me. You can't be around me anymore." she pleaded, her voice betraying her obvious distress.

"You're pushing me away to keep me safe?" he asked, his voice tired.

"Yes." she was biting back tears.

"Well, who's going to keep you safe?" he was pleading with her, his eyes bright.

"I am." she whispered. "Please, just-"

"Trust you." he finished. She nodded, her eyes were down turned. A worker jumped out of the truck, interrupting the moment. Jim looked at his watch. "I have an interview in a view minutes. It was good to see you." he leaned forward, then hesitated for the slightest of moments. He kissed her gently. Tanya could feel the fading scar on his mouth brush her cheek ever so slightly.

"I hope I see you again." she said quietly and honestly, taking in his still handsome appearance.

He smiled. "Thanks; me too." And then he was gone.

Tanya leaned on the wall near the building, recovering slightly. In her peripheral vision she could see the worker moving, his face masked by a hat pulled low. She wiped her eyes and straightened up. The worker was moving toward her, at in increasingly fast pace. Instantly her hackles went up. She turned, but not quickly enough because she was grabbed and thrown behind the truck.

"Who was that?" the voice was low and angry. She looked up. The workers hat had fallen off and those hazel eyes had lost all of their warmth.

"How did you get out?" she stammered, unbelieving that the Joker was standing before her. He grabbed her again, hauling her to her feet and against the side of the truck. He laughed, quietly but in that distinct way.

"I thought I said that I don't like sharing." The Joker had Tanya pinned to the truck, her back pressed hard into the metal. She kicked out with a high heel clad foot, connecting solidly with his thigh. He stumbled back, wincing. Tanya kicked the now broken pump off her foot and braced herself for another hit. She never got a chance to see it though. Something connected with her shoulder, knocking her forward and to the ground. She turned to see the same blonde woman from the D.A.'s office, poised to strike again with a briefcase. Tanya kicked her with her other foot, knocking the woman down. The briefcase landed at her feet. But the Joker was up again.

"Harley." he growled at the blonde woman. "Stick to the plan."

"But--" the corn color haired woman protested, but was silenced by a look of fury Tanya had never seen before. She nodded and got up, running to the back of the truck. Tanya was too distracted with watching her to stop the Joker from lifting her up again.

"Was that Jim?" he snarled.

"Was that her?" she shot right back. This time he had pinned her legs and arms. She settled for glaring daggers at him. He smiled.

"Jealous?"

"Are you?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Yes." He pushed her harder back into the truck and attacked her mouth with his. All trace of gentleness was gone. He grabbed her ass, forcing her skirt higher up until his hand was under it. She gasped at his roughness, struggling slightly against the pain.

"Stop it." she managed to command him when his mouth left hers.

To her surprise, he did. He let his hand slip slowly back down her leg, his fingernails raking her skin, surely leaving a mark. "If I ever see him again…" he began. He was interrupted by Jim's voice, loud and clear.

"Tanya?" his footsteps were rushing toward them.

"Don't." she pleaded with him. "I'll get him to go away. He's not a threat to you." the Joker dropped her roughly to the ground just as Jim came around the corner to face them. He took one look at her disheveled appearance, from her wrinkled suit, to her exposed legs and swollen lips and lunged forward. The Joker moved to meet him, but Tanya knocked him over, screaming at the top of her lungs as she did so. The blonde woman, Harley, rushed forward, grabbing the Joker and pushing him, with some difficulty, into the truck. She glared daggers at Tanya, her expression of unadulterated hatred. Tanya knew the woman had seen it all, and there would be hell to pay for it later. Quinzel climbed into the truck and peeled away, nearly running Jim and Tanya over. Behind the truck, Alfred's silver car came into view.

Tanya picked herself up from the ground and looked at Jim. He was staring at her with a look of horror.

"Now you understand why you can't be around me?" she pulled her skirt down, avoiding his eyes as she hurried toward her car. He nodded, opening his mouth as though to say something. Tanya couldn't hear it because she was already in the car, door slammed shut and locked, crying. Alfred asked no questions, but speed off. Through her tears, she could make out Jim bending down to pick up the briefcase that had been left amidst the scuffle. Tanya knew that the police would use it for evidence. Good. She hastily ducked down to avoid being seen and began explaining what had just happened to a very concerned Alfred.

They tore out of the back alley just as a force of law enforcement officers came out to question Jim.

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A/N: A lot going on in that chapter I know. Here's a quick recap: Joker's out, he's jealous of Jim. Harley's jealous of Tanya, and Gordon is suspicious. Oh, and Jim is beginning to figure it out. Whew, thanks for the reviews folks, and there's more to come. Oh, and congrats to Heath Ledger on his Oscar win.


	9. Under the Mask Of Night

Tanya was shivering against the cold of the night. She was standing on the balcony of her bedroom, leaning against the banister and thinking. To say the least, it had been a trying day, physically and emotionally. Seeing Jim had reawakened old feelings in her, confirming that she still cared dearly for the man who for so long had served as a crutch for her. More trying was, of course, the Joker. He was jealous of Jim. He had openly admitted it.

And Quinzel was clearly jealous of her. She had seen Quinzel's face when the Joker had her against the truck. It was hatred, pure and in its rawest form. She had never seen that look before, not even on the Joker. The closest he ever game to mirroring that look was when Quinzel had hurt her. She suspected the doctor was going to pay for it later. The thought gave her no comfort. If anything had been confirmed today, it was that she had nothing to worry about from Quinzel, at least not concerning the Joker. She was the clear winner of his affections, if that is what you could call them.

She leaned on the banister and winced. Her thighs and rear stilled burned from the bruises his fingers had left. The passion in his eyes had frightened her, not because she was afraid he would hurt her, but of what he would do to have her to himself. It was personal now. Alfred and Bruce had already tried to convince Jim to get out of Gotham. He flat out refused. But he had disappeared, seemingly of his own accord, giving the police his testimony and promising to be at any upcoming trial.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, cradling her body against the breeze. It was cold out here, but she could think out on the balcony in her solace, away from Bruce and Alfred and their questions. Bruce needed alone time as well; a guard had been killed on property owned by his company. He had to lock down the shed, essentially falsifying and corrupting a crime scene to ensure that the secret of Batman remained just that, a secret. He was torn up with guilt, and Tanya was fairly certain he was drowning it in Bourbon.

Unable to stand the cold any longer, she walked back into the room, sliding the arcade door shut behind her. She neglected to lock it. Spent, she made the effort to journey down the hall to Bruce's room to check in before bed. To her surprise, he wasn't drunk, or at least not obviously so. He was sitting on his bed, cradling his head in his hands.

"Hey," she said quietly, closing the door behind her. The mattress creaked as she lowered her weight on it next to him. "How are you?"

He sighed into his open palms before looking up at her. He opened his mouth, but no words seemed to find their way out, just a throaty, primal sound of frustration and pain.

"Yeah, me too." Tanya sighed as well, leaning back slightly. "But you know, I wouldn't beat myself up too badly about it. You have to protect your identity, for your sake, our sake and all of the Gotham. You give people hope; if they find out who you are, they would crucify you, and then there would be no one between them and the bad guys." he didn't respond immediately.

He stood up and stretched, shutting her out, shutting his emotions down. "I'm going to go see if I can catch him." She knew who Bruce was referring to.

"You know," she stood up as well, pacing slowly as Bruce grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "he talks about you sometimes. Compares us." Bruce slowed. "He wonders why you haven't broken down yet; he thinks that Bruce and Batman are two people, one weak, one strong. I tell him you're the same. And you'll never break." Bruce glanced over at her, stopped cold in his tracks.

Tanya patted him on the shoulder, leaving the room, and Bruce Wayne, alone. She relished in the feeling of the bed around her when she returned to her own room and flopped down. Within minutes, she was fast asleep. A knock on her door brought her back to the waking world. She groaned and rolled out of bed, dragging herself to answer the door. She glanced backward at the clock, noticing she had only been asleep for an hour. It was 11:00 pm.

It was Alfred. He was his usual polished self, if not a little worn around the eyes.

"Sorry to wake you, Miss Tanya. I just thought that you might like to know that the police have captured Doctor Quinzel."

"Really?" Tanya stepped out of her room. "Where?" it didn't surprise her that Quinzel had been caught.

"She was sneaking into police headquarters."

"What?!" Tanya thought that was the dumbest thing she had ever heard.

"Trying to get to Gordon, I suppose. Bloody idiot." the two absorbed that information for a while, standing in a comfortable silence.

"You look tired," Tanya observed. Alfred did look tired, though he hid it well. "Go to sleep."

"You know, Miss Tanya, I think I will." he smiled at her and said goodnight, wandering away to sleep.

Tanya fell asleep again, cuddled in her bed. She had restless dreams again, about the Joker. He was visiting her in her sleep, crawling in through the window like Romeo did for Juliet. He was makeup less, the way he always chose to be around her. More importantly, he was humanized. He was leaning over her, asking her to come away with him. She stirred in her sleep, waking up due to the breeze coming through her balcony. She sat up, sure she was still dreaming. She stood up to close the balcony doors when someone grabbed her arm and spun her into them.

A pair of lips crushed her own, more gently this time. It was her dream realized. The Joker was here, his face and hair clean, wearing a normal shirt and jeans and he was kissing her like he had in the car. She allowed herself to lose herself in the kisses for a moment, pulling him father into the room and away from the door. He pushed her into a dark corner of the room, deepening the kiss. His hand cradled the back of her head, separating it from the wall. The other was hoisting her up. She pressed her hands to his shoulders, giving him leverage. His hand was groping along her pajama clad legs, stroking her through the soft cotton material. He moved higher, brushing the bruises. Tanya winced, the pain effectively returning her to her senses.

"What are you doing here?" she managed to detach her mouth from his and gasp out the question.

"I'm here to get you." his reply made it sound like the simplest thing in the world.

"Are you kidding me?" she tried to push him away. He moved back a few inches but maintained his hold on her.

"I joke about a lot, but this isn't one of them, sweetie." he moved in to kiss her again. She turned her head. He made a frustrated sound. "Come on, weren't you the one who said you wanted me to love you?"

"Yes, but this isn't love! Killing people, using people to get to me, that's not love! That's the same old thing."

"I haven't killed anyone today." he said this as though she should be proud.

"You killed a security guard!" he glanced at the clock. It was past midnight.

"That was yesterday," he stated matter-of-factly. Tanya made a disgusted sound in her throat.

"And Quinzel? I suppose she just snuck into police headquarters because she felt like it."

He grinned. "Why do you care? She hates you. Now she's out of both of our hairs."

"I care because you used her. You twisted her mind so you could use her. That's not right."

"Fair enough. But that's in the past now."

"You're just going to keep doing things like that." Tanya wasn't giving up. Somehow she was going to drive this point home. "You say you want to love me. But all you do is hurt people. And every time you hurt someone, you hurt me. That's not love."

The Joker sucked on his teeth, his bottom lip retreating a little into his mouth. "Tanya, you know I'm not the expert on love." it was the first time she could ever recall him calling her by her name.

"Then let me help you." she grabbed his hand, clinging to it tightly. He looked at her, seeming to be fighting some internal battle. Tanya held her breath and prayed that it wasn't an act, that she was getting through. His eyes snapped shut and his face scrunched up, his breathing labored. Tanya began to become afraid, wondering what was happening. Minutes passed, but it could have been hours. Time seemed frozen.

"Alright." he said it so quietly she could scarcely hear it. Her heart leapt for joy. He had agreed. She tilted his face upward and kissed it, not caring where, showering him in affectionate and silent promises. He pushed her face backward slightly and reattached himself to her lips.

"You have to come with me." he said a minute or so later. "You have to come with me." his eyes were soft hazel, more human than she had ever seen them. She nodded, unable to deny him. He pulled back, waiting expectantly. It took her a second to realize he was waiting for her to get her things. She hastily threw clothing, a picture of her family, her journal and a toothbrush into a duffle bag.

"Alright." he crossed to the door, holding it open for her.

"Not the window?"

"No. The front door." she nodded, wondering how he was going to pull this off. She wondered what Alfred would think when he woke up and she was gone. She wondered what Bruce would think, whether or not he would come for her. Or if it would just confirm what he always thought, that she was in on the plan. She hesitated in the hallway.

"Wait," she instructed the Joker. He turned to look at her, his face impatient.

"Stay here." Tanya knew she had to do something first. There was no way she could walk out of here without explaining herself to the people who had kept her safe and earned her trust. The Joker looked at her like she was crazy.

"Why?" he asked.

"Just, please, trust me." She kissed him lightly on the lips, willing him with her eyes to stay put.

"Alright." he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Five minutes."

"Ten."

"Eight." he compromised. He flopped down on her bed, hands behind his head. "Time's ticking." he said when she didn't move immediately.

Tanya hurried down the hall and then the stairs into the den with the intention of finding Alfred. Instead, inside the den she found both Alfred and Bruce, both in their pajamas, apparently deep in conversation. Bruce spotted her first.

"Hey, Tanya. What are you doing up?"

"I have to leave." she dove headfirst. Bruce and Alfred glance at each other.

"And why is that?" Bruce folded his arms and leaned on the desk.

"It's something I have to do. I have to find him."

"Miss Tanya, I don't think that's a good idea--"

"I have to try it. For all of us. This isn't going to end. Not unless I try."

"And where are you going?" Bruce spoke up again.

"I don't know. To him I guess."

"You know where he is?" Bruce looked unconvinced.

"He normally is wherever I am. I'm just cutting out a step this time. It's time to end this."

"How?" this was both men.

"I'm going to try and fix him." that was about as far as her plan went.

"And if you don't? If you lose this game?"

"Then you know what you have to do." She and Bruce looked at each other for a long time. "I have to." she pleaded. "Please understand. You both have been wonderful. But, I have to go. I have to end this. For everyone's sake." she moved forward to hug Alfred. He wrapped her in a fatherly embrace.

"We'll miss you while you're gone, Miss Tanya. Please hurry back." she felt tears prickle in her eyes. She gave him a squeeze then moved to Bruce.

She hugged him as well, taking time to whisper to him, "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. Keep your head up." he hugged her too, not saying anything in response. Suddenly, his body tensed. Tanya looked up and noticed he was staring at the doorway, hatred in his eyes.

She turned and saw the Joker, leaning casually on the doorframe.

"He's here? In my house?!" Bruce let go of Tanya and lunged forward. The Joker dropped Tanya's bag, taking the force of Bruce's charge. The two toppled to the ground in a cloud of instant fury.

"Stop!" it was to no avail. Bruce had forgone all of his martial arts training and was now literally concentrating as hard as he could on hurting the Joker as much as he could. The Joker wasn't just taking it though; he had gotten in several good hits. Within two minutes, the men had inflicted so many bruises on each other that Tanya could barely tell who was winning. They were both bleeding; the Joker's eye looked swollen and Bruce's lip was split. The Joker swung upward, hitting Bruce in the nose. The crunching sound made Tanya sick to her stomach. Bruce quickly recovered, knocking the Joker to the ground and wailing on his face.

"Stop it!" She cried again. It was all in vain. Unable to take it anymore, Tanya lunged at Bruce, using the element of surprise to knock him off of the other man. The Joker tried to use it to his advantage, but Tanya placed herself between them, both hands on the Joker's chest.

"Stop!" she commanded him. The Joker looked at her, then Bruce, then slowly unballed his fists. Bruce wasn't so compliant.

"Move." he growled.

"No," she rounded on him. "Stop it. This won't solve anything."

"It'll make me feel better," he tried to get around her again.

The Joker took the opportunity to taunt the other man. "What's wrong, Brucey? You're not still sore about you squeeze, are you? What was her name again? Rachel?" Bruce let out an inhuman roar, nearly knocking Tanya aside. "Wonder what would happen if I let it slip to Dent who the Batman really is. Who else was in love with his girl--"

He was cut off by the resounding smack of Tanya's hand connecting with the Joker's cheek.

"Shut up!" she snapped at him. "Shut up right now." she turned to Bruce. "You're better than that." She turned to the Joker. "You're not going to tell Dent anything. But you are going to tell Bruce where Dent is, right now."

The Joker laughed. "I don't think so, snookie."

"If you want me, you damn sure are." he looked down at her.

"I could just take you."

"Even if you could get me out of here, that doesn't mean you could have me." she folded her arms across her chest.

The Joker watched her for a moment. "He's going to try and get Gordon again." he was addressing Bruce. "He used Harley as a distraction. If you hurry, you could get him." he sighed and looked back at Tanya. "Happy?"

"No. You?"

"No."

"Good." she turned back to Bruce. "I have to go now. Good luck."

Bruce was looking at her, his mouth open. He had just watched the Joker effectively get whipped by the skinny young woman in front of him. It was taking a while to process.

"Good luck to you as well, Miss Tanya." Alfred spoke for the both of them. "be safe. We hope to see you again."

"You too." she gave them both a parting smile, then turned around. The Joker had her bag again.

"Let's go." he instructed, but not before shooting Bruce a parting wink.

Tanya straightened up and followed him our of the mansion.

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A/N: So, Tanya is now going to try and fix the Joker. A lot of interaction is coming up between them and we're going to leave Bruce alone for a little while. Thank you to the reviewers who are hanging in there with me. Please drop a review if you feel so inclined.


	10. What's In a Name?

A/N: So, just a warning, this next chapter is a little more graphic, if you know what I mean. Also, I do not own the Coldplay song below. Don't know who does, but it's not me, so please do not sue.

* * *

When you try your best, but you don't succeed  
When you get what you want, but not what you need  
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

Coldplay- "Fix You"

Tanya hadn't paid much attention to how they had gotten to where they were now. She knew that it had involved a car of some type, but if asked, she couldn't even tell you the color. She knew that they were now in a room somewhere in Gotham, but she didn't know the street name or even how long it had taken them to get there. Her thoughts were consumed with him.

It was different then the last time they were together. She had loathed him then, tried to kill him even. He had made her life miserable with constant death threats. There was none of that now. In the car he had rested his arm along the back of her seat, his fingers just brushing her shoulder. It was casual, like they had always done it. There were no snaky comments; not even any conversation about what had just happened at Wayne Manor. There was just the deep silence of anticipation.

That silence lingered even now. It had been the early hours of the morning when they arrived. Exhausted Tanya had fallen on the first thing she had seen: a queen sized bed in the corner. It was surprisingly soft, and even though she had tried to stay awake, her pajama clad body had betrayed her. When she had woken up, bleary eyed and unaware of the time or her surroundings she had come face to face with the Joker.

He was next to her, shirtless and asleep. She had never seen him sleep in all of the months that she had known him. His face was relaxed and his lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The long, unkempt lock of his hair were falling across his forehead, billowing slightly from the warmth of his breath. Tanya was captivated. She had been lying awake now for God only knows how long, watching him sleep. It was peaceful and vulnerable. She found it beautiful. His torso was pale in comparison to her cocoa brown skin. He had the physique of a man who kept in shape naturally, not by route of the gym, but some sort of outdoor occupation. It was immensely appealing, his broad chest and shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist that was tucked out of sight under the sheets.

Across his body was a myriad of scars. She hadn't noticed them much before, but in the darkness, silhouetted by moonlight, they stood like ivory hills all over his skin. Some of them were thin, some thicker and more raised, some looked old while others looked fresher. She wondered where they had all come from and how long had he had them. Most of all she wondered if the scars on the outside were responsible for some type of emotional scars. Unable to restrain herself, she reached out and trailed her fingers over them, tracing the thin, raised lines down his chest. There were too many to count. He twitched just slightly under her touch. She paused, watching him.

His brow had creased slightly as though something in his dream was upsetting him. He stirred, kicking out with his legs. His face became more lined, more distressed, his breathing less regular. Unable to watch what she knew was a nightmare, Tanya reached out and shook him gently.

"Wake up," she whispered. "Wake up."

His eyes fluttered open, instantly finding hers. He sat up slightly.

"Bad dream?" it was less of a question and more of a statement of fact.

"Did I wake you up?" he circumvented the question.

"No. I was already awake." He nodded and exhaled. She scooted closer to him tentatively. He didn't move away but watched her out of the corner of his eye. She moved closer again, pressing her side to his. She reached out to touch him again, drawing attention to his scars.

"Where did you get all of these?" she asked. He looked down at them.

"Around." Tanya sensed quickly that he didn't want to talk about it. Deciding not to press it on the first day, she settled instead for running her hands up his body and to his shoulders, pulling herself closer in, forcing him to either pull away or hold her. To her surprise he chose the latter. His arm snaked around her waist coming to rest on her thigh. Tanya leaned in and kissed his neck, trailing her kisses up to his ear. She tugged it gently with her teeth. He groaned, shifting his body so that their chests were pressed together.

"You fall asleep the minute we get here, but now that it's the middle of the night, you're ready to go?" he jokingly questioned her. She laughed softly.

"Sorry. I guess I was more tired then I thought I was." she punctuated her apology with a kiss. He quickly responded, pulling her body closer to his own. His lips were soft, massaging hers gently. His tongue teased her lips, begging them to open. She did, and his tongue swept in, roaming her mouth in a practiced motion. She moaned, pulling him harder to her, allowing her back to fall to the mattress. They kissed like that for a long while, tongues fighting back and forth, content to kiss and touch each other. His hands made their way under her shirt, grazing the underwire of her bra. Her breath hitched at the gentle touch. She gripped his back tighter and ran her legs and bare feet up and down the back of his naked calves. He gripped the bottom of her shirt and tugged it over her head, only breaking their kiss when the fabric passed between them.

Bare flesh pressed on bare flesh as they met again in a more feverish kiss. Tanya was squirming now, desperately trying to get as close to him as possible. He pulled her up, his hand massaging the globes of her backside as he pushed himself between her legs. She gasped, heat searing through her body. Unable to take it anymore, she spoke.

"I want you." her voice was breathy and deep.

"Yeah?" he sounded slightly amused, but couldn't hide the urgency in his voice either. "How bad?"

Tanya knew what he was doing but didn't care. He wanted her to beg, something she never did. She was beginning to think that this might be the exception. "Really bad." she punctuated her statement by grabbing his hand and guiding it underneath the hem of her pajama bottoms. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. He lifted her up, tugging the fabric off urgently, removing both panties and pants in one sweep. Tanya was pushing the hem of his boxers down, silently thanking God that she didn't have to deal with pants. In seconds, the two of the came back together, naked flesh on naked flesh. His fingers unhooked the clasp of her bra, nearly breaking the strap of elastic as he tossed it aside. Before she could even register what was happening she felt the distinct sensation of him pushing into her.

She gasped, grabbing him tighter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed up, matching him movement for movement. Their skin soon became slick as they moved. They became for frantic as time went on, desperate to get lost in one another. He leaned down to kiss her, his lips and tongue mimicking their motions. Tanya moaned loudly, allowing herself to lose herself in him, to be uninhibited. Desire shot through her body, pooling until she couldn't take it any longer. She cried out as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Needing to scream something and refusing to scream out his title, she cried the first thing that came to her mind.

"I love you!' the words burst forth from her lips as every muscle in her body tightened and released in synch with one another. Moments later, he reached his own release, crying out her name in her ears. He collapsed on top of her breathlessly. Tanya's legs were quivering, spent and so in bliss that she couldn't move.

He buried his face in her neck, trying to calm his breathing. Tanya kissed his cheek gently, raking her fingers through his hair to massage his scalp. He sat up slightly to look up at her.

"You have permission to wake me up in the middle of the night anytime you want to." leave it to him to make a joke. His smile was soft, contented. For the first time, the warmth reached his eyes.

"I love you," she repeated again. She fully did not expect him to say it back, but she was going to keep telling him until the message hit home. He smiled again and kissed her. He rolled over on his back. Tanya snuggled into the crook of his arm, lying on his chest.

"Do you have a name?" she asked suddenly.

"I think you know it, baby." his chest vibrated with his chuckle.

"I mean, a real name. I don't like the Joker. That's not a name, it's a title."

"Why are you suddenly so curious?" he looked down at her, one of his eyebrows raising questioningly.

"Because, just now…I had nothing to yell out. You know my name. That's not fair." she tried to downplay it as much as possible.

"My name…" he mused. "You really need a name?"

"I'd like to know it. If I'm going to keep sleeping with you, that is." she smiled devilishly at him, but secretly hoped that it would do the trick.

He mad a face of faux-surprise. "Well, if that's the case, you can call me Jack."

"Jack." somehow it made sense. "Is that your name?"

"I think so." he looked over at her.

"You don't remember your own name?" the heaviness of such and admission hung on her.

"There's a lot I don't remember. It's easier that way." he looked at her shocked and saddened face. "Don't worry about it, sweet cheeks. Trust me. I don't want to remember."

In that moment Tanya knew what she had to do. These memories were key. Maybe if she could get him to talk to her, she could humanize him again. He already seemed much more human than he had been this morning. He had a name.

"Jack." she said it again, liking the way it rolled off her tongue.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out."

"What if I want to wear it out?" she whispered huskily in his ear, dragging her hand down his chest and under the covers. His breath hitched. She sat up and straddled him, kissing up his chest.

"I think you may be the best person I have ever kidnapped." he joked, gripping her hips.

"Flattered." she smiled.

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A/N: This chapter was pretty much pure fluff, but I figured the story as a whole is pretty heavy and you guys earned it. Besides, I got a few requests for some smut. Just letting you know that this is probably the most graphic chapter I have ever written. I get a little nervous about writing that sort of stuff. I hope it was satisfying. Thanks for the reviews!


	11. Scars

Bruce was sparring alone, without a partner for the first time in almost two months. He was exerting more energy than usual, pushing his body to its limits. He hit the heavy punching bag with such vigor that it was knocked from its hook. Sweating and exhausted, he wiped his face and paused, trying to catch his breath.

"Still sore, Master Wayne?" Alfred was in the doorway with a tray of breakfast. Bruce was sure he meant 'sore' in more than one way.

"Just working out, Alfred." he swooped up a towel and wiped his face.

"Of course." he sat the tray down. "She had to do it you know."

"Did she?"

"I believe so, sir."

"What does she think this is going to solve?" Bruce sat down and began picking at the toast on the tray.

"She loves him, Master Bruce. That can't be helped."

"I don't believe that." it took effort not to slam the bread back down on its plate.

"Don't you? I think what bothers you is that you and Miss Tanya are not so different."

"We're very different."

"I think that you, like Miss Tanya, realize that you cannot help who you love, but you can control what you do about it. She wants to save him. Is that so unreasonable?" Bruce didn't answer. "It if were Miss Dawes in this situation…"

"Don't Alfred. Don't bring Rachel into this."

"Whether you want to hear it or not, you know it's true."

"No." Bruce stood up.

"Rachel is gone, Master Bruce. It's the painful truth. But if Tanya Heathrow doesn't do this, many more might end up in the pain you are in. You can't defeat him alone. Let her try her way." Bruce stared at Alfred for a long while.

"We'll see." he concluded simply. "Any word on Dent?" he effectively changed the subject.

"The police have begun a massive man hunt. The whole city is on alert. Luckily we got there in time to warn Gordon." Bruce nodded.

"And Quinzel is still in police custody?"

"For now." Alfred was folding up the towel Bruce had dropped.

"Then it's time to put our plan into action." Bruce sounded resolved.

Alfred sighed. "Give her a chance, Master Wayne."

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He could hear them yelling. They were always yelling. In the daytime it was relatively quiet. He was free to do what he wanted, as long as he stayed away from her. Occasionally he would wander into the kitchen and catch her crying, wearing sunglasses in the house even when it was dark. If she saw him, she abruptly stopped and then the yelling started again. But it was nothing compared to what happened when _he _got home. She said he was her father; but he knew better. Fathers weren't like that. They took their sons to the batting cage; they didn't use their sons for target practice.

At first she stuck up for him, but then he turned on her too. Now he was on his own. He used to try and stop him when it happened; to protect his mother. But eventually, he realized that he had no power. And so he took it all silently, learning to cower away and make himself scarce when the yelling began. It went like this for months, then years until he was a teenager. He decided he wasn't going to take it anymore. Teachers didn't question the bruises; he fought at school, taking out frustration on anyone who looked at him wrong. It was time to end this. When he had grabbed the knife, he hadn't anticipated how strong a drunk and angry man was; he hadn't anticipated that the knife would be turned on him; he hadn't anticipated how that simple, horrible moment would define his face for the rest of his life, how it would define him…

The Joker jolted awake. He hadn't had that nightmare in a long time. In fact, he was sure that he had forgotten all about that. But now it was coming back. Sweating and shaking he sat up, surprised to find that he was a grown man, not the cowering 14 year-old his mind had just convinced him he was. He sat up and stretched, trying to shake his old self.

Tanya was in the shower. He could hear the water from the bedroom. It somehow reassured him that she hadn't been part of the dream either. He didn't know what time they had fallen asleep last night, but clearly she had risen earlier than he did. He rarely slept, but after last night, he had been so worn down he needed to rest. He stood up and stretched, noticing that she had folded the clothes that had been strewn about and put them on the chair in the corner of the room. He chuckled at her attempt to establish some sort of domesticity.

He needed to pee. He shuffled over to the bathroom and was immediately enveloped in the warm mist from the shower. Tanya was singing to herself. Amused, he paused to listen while he washed his hands. It was some sort of soft love song. Intrigued, he moved closer, sliding in the shower behind her.

Startled, she jumped.

"Jack!" Jack. God, he had told her his name. He hadn't even remembered it until she asked. No one had called him Jack since high school. No one except his mother and his--

"Hey," he forced a smile, determined to not let her see what he was thinking about.

"Did you sleep well?" she had already turned back around and was squeezing a healthy amount of soap onto some sort of fluffy looking circle. He stared at it, knowing that it did not belong to him.

"What the hell is that?" his lip curled in disgust.

"A loofah. I brought it from home." she said it like this should have been common knowledge. His look of horror stayed put, so she explained further. "It's amazing. Look." she wet it, then turned and started rubbing it along his chest. As though on a cue, the contraption started producing bubbles, leaving a layer of foam across his body. He watched it warily, but his attention soon wavered as she moved to his back, pressing her wet body to his to reach it.

"See?" she questioned softly. "It feels good." He had to admit she was right. He hated himself for the way he let her rub all the tension of his nightmare away. He knew she was the reason the nightmares were coming back in the first place, but he didn't care. If he had known how much trouble this broad was going to be, he would never have kidnapped her in the first place. He thought she would be easy to control; beautiful women normally were. They were fleeting and shallow, easy to break. Not her. She found her way into his consciousness night after night, even when he refused to sleep. In the day he could stave it off with plotting. The worst part was that he couldn't eliminate it. Because eliminating the dreams meant he had to eliminate her. He had come close, on more occasions then she was aware of. But every single time, he stopped. Sometimes there was an excuse, but to his chagrin mostly it was just him. She wasn't the first person to amuse him. Every victim provided some sort of amusement, whether they begged or remained stony faced. No, she was more than that.

And it drove him insane.

Contrary to popular belief, he was not insane. At least not conventionally insane. Few people understood this, and he was content to let them dwell in their misgivings. If it made them more afraid of him, then good. They wanted to see him as crazy, as totally opposite from themselves. But the amount of people who had let him influence them, even if they had never seen him before, never been directly affected, proved otherwise. They let him dominate their city; few people fought. They gave in willingly, easily. They were all just like him.

Or most of them were anyway. Some were taking a little more effort. She was one of them. She was different from the other one though, the Bat. It was easy to be brave in a mask when no one knew your name. He was sure that would all change now. But she, she was well-known, unmasked and she still put up a fight. It baffled him. She was the first person he couldn't just laugh off and kill.

The worst part was that she seemed to be spreading her affliction along. He really should just get rid of her, take her out of the equation before she posed a real threat. It would be easy. But he couldn't do it. He tried, on Christmas, in the store and a few other times. He had failed, miserably. In fact he had made it worse.

It would be nice to be able to say that the dreams had started after that day in the car. Hell, he would even settle for after Christmas. Truth was, they had started after that day at the bank. He had been amused when he let her out of that room and forced her to bathe. That cold, hard look in her eyes as she tried not to shiver under that icy blast of water. She was vulnerable, especially after more than a week of captivity. But her eyes were fierce, defiant, angry even. It had excited him, in more ways than one.

She was doing it again. Last night had been for lack of another word, different. When they had finished she had fallen asleep in the crook of his arm. He had enjoyed holding her like that, how trusting she was.

She had no reason to be comfortable around him, but she was. She even was literally, showering him with affection. He didn't deserve it, but he liked it. She was gentle with him, like no one ever had. She made him forget about the game, made him want to give in.

He leaned down and kissed her, pushing her under the stream of hot water. She instantly responded, pulling herself into his arms. Maybe, he thought as he kissed her, he could give in, just for now…

A half hour later Tanya was wrapped in a robe with a towel around her wet curly hair, making eggs at the stove. The Joker had taken her to an old apartment building, one that he knew well, despite the fact that he had only lived there a few months previously. It was the one place he knew no one would look, and the last place on earth he wanted to be.

Tanya scooped the last bit of egg out of the pan and onto a plate. She wondered how the apartment was so well furnished and decided to ask. The Joker, or Jack as she now liked to call him, was at the table, lost in thought. She set the plate in front of him, taking a seat across from him. He dug in. It was strange to see him in so domestic of a situation.

"Do you mind me asking where we are?" he looked up at her.

"Do you mind me not answering?"

Tanya sighed. "A little bit." he smiled at her.

"These are good." he gestured to the eggs. He was nearly done with them.

"Did you take Quinzel here when she was with you?" she tried a different route. The question had plagued her all night. Was she the only one who had shared his bed?

"I never brought Harley here." he pushed the plate away from him.

"Harley…." the nickname bothered her. She looked down at her plate, trying not to feel the hurt that was stinging her. Across from her, the Joker, Jack, stood up. He dropped his plate in the sink and walked over to her. He pulled her to her feet.

"You're the one who's here, not her. So stop worrying about it." His tone of voice left no room for argument. If only it were that easy. Sensing she was still upset, he tried to placate her.

"Ok, ask me any question. I promise I'll answer it." her eyes widened. Instantly, he inwardly cursed himself. Why did he let her manipulate him like that?

"Alright…tell me how you got your scars. All of them." she traced the raised skin near his mouth with her fingers. He had figured that question would pop up sooner or later. Alright, he would answer it. They could play the question game for a while. Maybe that would be the key to getting her to see life his way.

He sat down on the chair, lowering her onto his lap. "Fair enough."

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A/N: So, I am going to cut off there and focus on school for the rest of the week. Sorry, but I promise I will make sure the next chapter is really pretty. Thanks so much for all the reviews.


	12. Lose Yourself

Tanya allowed him to guide her into his lap. Her heart rattled her rib cage, nearly feverish with anticipation. He was going to tell her about the scars. She had wondered about them from the moment she had first seen his face, months and months and months ago. Back when she hated him, back when she feared him. Back before she loved him. It was easy to say that now, simple to admit.

She did love him. Plain and simply. Last night had cemented it in stone. The man had her wrapped around his little finger. She wondered if he knew. He had to. She had woken up this morning, body still tingling and giddy and then promptly spent her alone time in the shower singing Mariah Carey love songs. He had her completely, body and soul. Now if only she had him. She allowed herself the audacity of hope. Sometimes she saw it in those warm hazel eyes of his: A flash of want for more than just her body. She knew he desired that. He had proved that want several times last night and once in the shower this morning. She wanted him to want her to save him.

If only she knew he was starting to cave. His hands were buried under her robe, their coolness contrasting with her still flushed skin.

"My scars…" he began. His hand reached up to unknot the towel around her hair, freeing the mass of still damp curls. He ran his fingers through them. The motion was simple and comforting. Tanya relaxed into him, shutting her eyes and pressing her cheek to his bare chest.

"Your scars…" she urged him on.

"Right." he seemed as though he was straining to remain light-hearted about it. Tanya knew better. What he was about to tell her was difficult, something few people likely knew. "Where do you want me to start?"

She turned her eyes upward to his. "How about how old you were when you got them."

"I was 14." a baby. Tanya hadn't expected him to have been that young. She felt a stab of sorrow through her heart. This story wasn't going to be good.

"14? Who did it?" she struggled to keep her voice level.

"My father." Tanya felt her eyes instantly sting. Her palms balled inadvertently. His father? She wanted to strangle the man. "He did it because I stood up to him. He used to smack me and my mom around. And my sister."

"You have a sister?" the knowledge shocked her.

"Yeah." he continued. "It'd been happening since I was little, before she was born even. I got fed up with it one day. I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. He was hitting my mom harder than usual. My sister was screaming; she was only 11; he was yelling for her to shut up. I tried to stop him. He hit me, knocked me into the counter." his eyes were wide, saucer-like almost, staring past her. "I hit him back. He fell into this rack of knives. He grabbed one, went for me. My mother stopped him. He pushed her back, went after her with the knife. I grabbed him, tried to stop him. That's when he did it. Just stuck the blade in my mouth, like it was nothing. I remember bleeding everywhere, screaming and crying, my terrified sister in the corner, my mom trying to get the knife away from him…" Tanya's eyes were filling rapidly now, crying out for the poor boy, his sister…

"He spun around right when she ran at him. Knife went into her. It was the first time I realized how easy it was to stab someone." he plowed ahead, trying to get through the whole thing. "I didn't really see it. I blacked out from the pain. I just remember her face. It was the last thing I saw. Her bleeding, him standing there, roaring that it was my fault."

"What happened to him?" the tears were rolling down her cheek now, dripping onto his bare chest.

Jack's face was dry. Hardened. "Police came and got him. Went to prison for a while. They shuffled me and my sister through foster care for a while. Most of the time we were together. Sometimes we got spilt up. Some of the other scars," he gestured to his chest, "are from that. Some are from him. Some are from prison and fighting." So he had been to prison. She longed to ask when, but let him continue at his own pace.

"He got out when I was 17. Good behavior or some bull shit like that. He got my sister. I would have moved, but I stayed to make sure she was safe. It worked for a few months, 'till I was 18. The scars, I think they kept him in check. I had a reputation then. I fucked anyone up who stepped out of line. He was scrawny from prison. I was younger, stronger and a lot angrier. He kicked me out when I was 18 though. I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I graduated; wouldn't have, but my kid sister was there. I had to watch her. After that I wandered. Stayed with whoever I could. Mostly with girls attracted to my bad-boy persona. I think it was a game to them. Like they were trying to see who could handle me. I didn't really care. I had a place to sleep and I got my rocks off."

That explained his skills in the bedroom. Tanya felt resentment to those women, using him with no regard for how he felt. Like he was a toy. She shook the thoughts away in order to pay attention.

"One day I came back home. It was her birthday. She was going to be 16. I had a cake, some candles. The normal stuff." his voice faltered for the slightest of moments. "Anyway, I get home and the old man," the title was filled with bitter disdain. "he had a bunch of his old prison friends over. They were drunk as fuck. Could smell it before you even got to the door. I pushed past them, they were all laughing, asking how I got my scars. I ignored them, went looking for my sister. She was in her room, balled up in a corner, crying. She was bleeding too, her pants were all covered in red." Tanya's breath hitched. "So I start panicking, yelling to see what's wrong. She tells me what happened. Says the bastards got drunk, took turns on her, using her up, like she was a whore. And he just stood there and let them do it, her own fucking flesh and blood. Her dad." his hands nearly cut into her as his muscles clenched in anger. Tanya was horrified. Oh God, her stomach turned, threatening to redeposit the eggs back into the kitchen.

"I don't remember a lot after that. I was pissed as hell. I went in the kitchen, grabbed a knife. And I killed every single one of those bastards. It took a while too; didn't know how to use a knife then. I saved my old man for last. He was crying, sweating like a pig. I gave him scars to match my own. Then I slit that fucker's throat. The police came; I admitted to doing it. Three weeks later, I went to prison. My sister went back to foster care. When I got out nine years later, she was gone. Drug overdose."

"Then what happened?" Tanya was clinging to him, barely able to speak through the torrent of tears.

"I became the Joker. I forgot it all, went unhinged. First thing I burnt down was the police building, the prison too. Burnt the place down that let that son-of-a-bitch out after 3 years and locked me up for doing exactly what someone else should have. The records of my existence went with it. I hunted down the rest, birth certificate, everything, set them all on fire. Faked my own death. Then I had free reign." Tanya knew enough of the rest of the story. They sat in silence for a while, Tanya crying hysterically while he just sat, holding her silently. Tanya remembered that a prison and police house had been the victims of arson about half a decade back in Alabama. She had been young, fresh into college. She wondered if it was the same. She digested the thought somberly. He had been the Joker since he killed his father. That was almost 15 years. 15 years of being numb and dehumanized; 15 years of loving no one and having no one love him.

"What was her name?" she finally sniffled out.

"Tanya." it took her a moment to realize that he wasn't addressing her. His sister's name had been Tanya. So much made sense now. Why he kidnapped her in the first place, why he never used her name, why he let her in, why he allowed her to love him.

"Oh, Jack." she moaned quietly, her salt tears spilling down her face. Unable to communicate in words what she felt, the sorrow, the pity, she kissed him all over his face. She started with the scars on his face, taking her time over every inch of them. She then moved to the ones on his chest. She painstakingly brushed her lips over every single scar she saw, leaving a wet trail of tears in her wake. He was still the whole time, locked in place by memories he had fought so hard to forget. Tanya cried for him, releasing all the sorrow he had, loving him hard enough to fill that long empty gap in his heart. She reached the last scar on his navel when he stopped her. His hands tightened around her waist and pulled her head up. He fused his lips to hers. They were urgent, frantic, like he was dying and she was the cure. Every motion lacked his trademark indifference. He was like a porcelain doll that was seconds away from hitting the hard ground, threatening to shatter.

Tanya let him pull her to him, straddling him to make it easier. He grabbed her, jerking her close, trying to bury himself in hair. He was coming apart. Tanya wrapped her arms around his body, holding him together.

"Shh, shush Jack. It's ok. I love you. It'll be ok. I love you." she whispered it to every part of him like a prayer, silently praying herself that he would be alright. His trembling subsided after what could have been hours. Tanya's legs and arms were numb from sitting still for so long, but she didn't care. All that mattered right now was him. All that mattered was that he knew that someone cared about him, that someone knew his secret and loved him more for it. "I love you." she repeated, louder this time. "I love you, Jack."

His body went still; the only movement was the laborious rising and falling of his chest.

"Why?" he asked, his question barely audible through her thick tangle of hair.

"Because," she forced his chin up, making him look at her. "You are worth loving." she kissed him again, slowly, pouring everything she felt into it.

"No." he pulled back. "I'm not."

"You are. I don't love lightly. But I am madly in love with you, Jack. You and only you." she kissed him again. He still resisted, avoiding her eye contact and trying to shake off her kisses.

"Only you, Jack." she repeated, willing him to accept it.

"No one has called me that since Tanya." he whispered.

"Let me. Let me call you that. Let me love you." he looked up at her, his eyes lined and older looking than she had ever seen. There was none of his trademark mirth. She knew now why he chose to laugh and smile while he committed his atrocities. There was nothing else for him to smile about. She wanted him to smile at her. "Please," she tried again.

He gripped her thighs, pulling her directly into him. His mouth found hers again, gently coaxing it open. Tanya massaged his tongue with hers, relishing in the feeling of him against her. His hands untied the rope holding her robe shut and pushed the fabric off of her shoulders. It fluttered to the kitchen floor and was quickly joined by the towel that Jack had around his waist. Tanya pressed her feet to the ground, giving herself enough leverage to push her body up and over his. He didn't give her much time to adjust, instead seizing her waist and pulling her roughly down onto him. Her body screamed with an intense mixture of pleasure and pain as they came together, filling her completely. The chair scraped and skidded across the floor. He controlled the pace, plunging in and out with a frenzy that nearly knocked her cross-eyed. Tanya gripped him for dear life, trying to match his breakneck pace. He grunted and groaned, grasping handfuls of her hair, clasping her to him. Unable to restrain herself anymore, she cried out wantonly, bracing herself on his shoulders. What seemed like hours of intense sensations later, Tanya's body couldn't take it anymore. She fell off the edge, her muscles clenching him tightly. He was quick to follow, grabbing her thighs as they finished. Tanya collapsed into his body, spent completely. Jack's arms fell to his sides, his thumb gently caressing her calves. He looked at her, his eyes back to their warm color. He looked like a child.

"I'm glad you love me, Tanya." he whispered it into her hair, pulling her into a hug.

Tanya felt her eyes prickling again. "I'm glad I love you too, Jack."

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_**Joker's/Jack POV**_

She loves me. She keeps telling me this, but at first I assumed she was lying. It would be easier if she was lying, if she was just trying to win the game. But since when has my life been easy?

She cried hard when I told her the story. I haven't cried about it in years, but she let the waterworks go. She cried so hard she was shaking, her whole body heaving as she sobbed. She cried for me. No one has cried for me. Ever. I barely cried for myself. It never solved anything; things were still shitty in the morning. So why do I like that she cries for me? Why do I feel like it's some sort of privilege, or reward?

She says she loves me. She does. She keeps showing it, keeps insisting on it, even when I don't say anything back. She makes me accept it. Harley never did that. She was obsessed with me, wanted to get in my pants even, but she never made me do anything. I had complete control of her. Tanya has complete control of me.

I don't know when it started. I used to be able to resist. Not anymore. She's got me, hook, line and sinker. I don't think she knows it though. But here she is, holding me together, forcing me to come to terms with something I long ago decided to forget, something I repressed.

I feel human again. It sucks. But it sucks significantly less this time around. Yeah it hurts, but there's something else in there too.

I think I love her.

Which is a shitty situation, really. She deserves better. She shouldn't love me. I shouldn't love her. If everything had gone according to plan, she would have been dead six months ago, and I'd be somewhere wreaking havoc.

Instead, I'm sitting in a chair, letting her hold me like I'm a baby. It almost is enough to make me sick. Almost.

Because I like it. She opens herself up to me, let's me take exactly what I want and expects nothing in return. Strange person she is, that much I'm sure of. No one is that selfless. Or so I thought. She's all out of breath now, still clutching me like if she lets go, she might fall off. I almost feel bad; I just projected a lifetime of pain and want and anger into her. Hopefully, she'll be able to walk straight later. She's a tough broad, I'll give her that.

Her face is all tear-stained and her eyes are blood shot and puffy around the edges. Her hair is frizzy because she didn't get to rub whatever that goop is that girls rub in their hair before it dries. She's flushed and out of breath, and covered in sweat. But she looks beautiful. I never understood how she does that. Even when I had locked her in that room for all that time, she still came out gorgeous. Haunted, gaunt, sad maybe, but still beautiful.

I lean in and kiss that sad, pouty mouth. Her lips are all kiss swollen from all the affection she showered on me in the last 12 hours. God, it's sexy the way she always immediately responds, the soft little noises she makes, the way she always leans like she's trying to bury herself in me. And even though it hasn't even been ten minutes since the last time, I want her again.

I stand up; I don't think the chair can take it anymore. She's cradled in my arms. She doesn't ask questions, for once, but just lets me carry her out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom. I drop her on the bed and a few minutes later, I'm lost in her again. She squirming, moaning, grabbing me. I just look at her. Her eyes are closed at first, but then she opens them, like she knows I'm watching. I smile at her, a real smile, and she smiles back. She leans up to kiss me and I fall over the edge, taking her with me. She's holding me again, whispering my name like a prayer. It's nice to hear my name again. Even nicer to hear it said like that. I lean into her, pulling her into my arms and returning her embrace.

"Tanya," my voice is deep, out of breath and I barely recognize it, I've used the Joker's cackle for so long.

"Yeah, Jack?" there it is again. The name. My name.

"I love you too." I blurt it out before I can think about the consequences, knowing that I owe her at least that small favor. She looks at me like I grew another head at first. But now she's crying again. I swear, the woman better watch out before she has no fluids left. But I don't mind her tears so much this time, because she's happy.

And I think I might be happy too.

* * *

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A/N: So, that was a pretty emotional chapter. I figured something terrible would have to happen to make someone so apathetic to the world and the Joker's story was the worst thing I could imagine. I know in the comics, he rarely has a back story, but he needed one and this fit the first story he told in the Dark Knight. As for his name change, Tanya thinks of him as Jack, so that's what she is now going to call him. And as for the story from his point of view, I know it's a bit out of character, but really, out of character is what I am aiming for. Thanks to all the past reviewers, and I appreciate all of your feedback. You guys really don't know how great you are!


	13. A Dream Within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!  
And, in parting from you now,  
Thus much let me avow-  
You are not wrong, who deem  
That my days have been a dream;  
Yet if hope has flown away  
In a night, or in a day,  
In a vision, or in none,  
Is it therefore the less gone?  
All that we see or seem  
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar  
Of a surf-tormented shore,  
And I hold within my hand  
Grains of the golden sand-  
How few! yet how they creep  
Through my fingers to the deep,  
While I weep- while I weep!  
O God! can I not grasp  
Them with a tighter clasp?  
O God! can I not save  
One from the pitiless wave?  
Is all that we see or seem  
But a dream within a dream?

**Edgar Allan Poe** - "**A Dream Within A Dream"**

**A/N: Once again, I do not own this poem. Or anything in the story, except for my original characters.**

Bruce was bent over a computer, staring intently at the flickering monitor. Alfred was positioned just behind him, his posture clearly portraying annoyance.

"Don't you think you are being quite hasty, Master Wayne?"

"No harm in looking, Alfred."

"Yes, but I have never known you to 'just look' a single time in your life." His tone was slightly tinged with mirth, but his eyes were dead serious. Bruce, choosing to act on the sarcasm, shot him a innocent grin.

"Come on, Alfred. It's been three days now. I can at least see where she is."

"Ah, and evil is supposed to be defeated in three days? May I point out, Master Wayne, that it took the good Lord six to create the universe. And pretty as she is, Miss Heathrow is no deity."

"Relax; it'll be fine." Bruce's hands flickered over the keyboard.

"I just think you ought to give her a proper shot. To her credit, there have been no attacks in the last few days."

"She could be hurt, Alfred."

"You know as well as I do that isn't the case. Something about her keeps him from doing anything to her." Bruce just sighed.

"I don't trust him. Or her."

"Him certainly. But her? Master Bruce, are you sure the problem isn't that you don't understand them?"

"You're right, Alfred. That's definitely the answer." Bruce shot him an annoyed look. This fight had been raging everyday since Tanya took her leave, with neither party budging an inch. It was testament to their relationship that neither was seriously angry at the other.

"I just have a feeling that our Miss Tanya has made headway. I would hate to undo her hard work."

"And how would I do that?"

"Clearly, he trusts her. If you come barging in, that trust will shatter. So will any progress she has made."

"If she's made any."

"Master Bruce, is that jealousy I hear? You're not angry that she may beat him before you do, are you?" Alfred raised an accusatory eyebrow.

"She slept with him Alfred. If that's what it takes to beat him--"

"It just might. Or at least it might be the first step. I point out, _again_," he emphasized the word, alluding to the argument they had already ran through several times, "that she was able to stop him from killing a man behind the Commissioner's building, as well as to effectively silence him when he was here."

Bruce ignored him. "Too late, Alfred. It already came up." the screen was now displaying a flashing green dot on a map of Gotham.

"So I suppose it would be pointless to mention the ethics of putting a tracking device on someone without their knowledge or permission?"

"Yup. Especially when it's for the person's own safety." Alfred made a scoffing sound.

"So where, then, is she?" Alfred temporarily conceded victory.

"She's on the south side, in an old apartment complex. I wonder what they're doing there…"

"I suspect she will tell us when she gets back."

"Or, I could go get her."

"Or, you could do what I say, (and I remind you that I am normally right) and wait."

"Or…" Bruce was already heading to get changed, "I could go get her." Alfred sighed and looked at the screen. Under the little green blinking dot was a paragraph of information about the location. It was an apartment on the lower south side of Gotham, half of it had been recently renovated, but the other half, the older half, was not in use, but all of the amenities (electricity, water, etc) still worked. It was only a matter of time before the owner noticed. They would have to move before the month was out, if they were lucky. He wondered what they were doing in there, whether or not Tanya had made headway, and who was winning the game.

"Hey, Alfred!" Bruce's shout drew him out of his thoughts. "Can you help me with this?" Alfred suppressed the urge to tell him to put on his own bloody suit, sighed instead, and went to help his employer make a big mistake.

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Bruce, now Batman, slunk through the shadows around the complex, taking great pains to remain silent as he slopped through dirty puddles. The rain and the resulting fog offered extra cover, cover that he was thankful for. He knew the room number; it was on the fourth floor. He detached a small hook attached to a cable from the device on his wrist and tossed it up, looping it around the railing four floors up. He tested his weight gingerly, then used the cable to help him walk up the side of the building. He flipped himself up and over the railing, landing on the fourth floor balcony. He detached his cable and crept down the hallway. The door have been coming up, but he couldn't see the numbers. He flicked on his night vision and continued on his way.

A sudden, blinding flash of lightening tore across the sky, illuminating the world and temporarily blinding him. He fumbled with is mask, hastily trying to switch off of the painfully bright night vision. A second later, when his vision was restored, he was greeted by a new sight.

The Joker was standing right in front of him. Water dripped down his hair and nose, pooling in his shirt and sweatpants. He was giving the Batman a questioning look, but his eyes sparkled with annoyance. He crossed his arms, so far making no violent gesture.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" the Joker spoke first.

"Where's Tanya?" Batman pretended that his sudden appearance did not catch him off guard, instead cutting straight to the point.

"Exactly where she should be. Did you put a tracking device on her? Where is it? It must be somewhere internal, I would have noticed it by now…"

"If you hurt her--" Batman raised a fist menacingly.

"Relax. I didn't hurt her." the Joker held up both palms in response. "and I won't hurt you either, if you leave right now."

Batman snarled. "Not without her."

"She's exactly where she wants to be, Brucey. Trust me; no one is keeping her against her will. You can ask her yourself." he gestured to the door behind him, the one he had snuck out of earlier when he first realized Batman had come. He had been looking out of the window at the rain when he had seen the caped crusader in the shadows. Now, he opened the door and stepped in, motioning for Batman to follow.

"We keep the lights off in here at night so we're more incognito. Might want to use whatever is in that fancy pointed hat of yours." Something about the way he said 'we' made Batman's stomach drop. It was too casual, too much like habit. He followed the Joker through a main kitchen and into the back room. The Joker flicked on the light switch, casting a warm, 60-watt glow on the bedroom. A female figure that the Batman assumed was Tanya stirred on the bed. The Joker walked over to her and bent over, whispering something Batman could barely hear in her ear.

"Baby, we have company." Tanya sat up and blinked blearily.

"Bruce?" she looked disoriented, as though she couldn't have been seeing what she was in fact seeing. "What are you doing here?" she jumped out of bed, pulling the sheets with her, shielding her body. She looked frantically between the two men, desperately searching for a clue, wondering if she would have to quell yet another fight.

"I'm here to get you." Batman ignored the fact that the sheet was the only thing between him and a full view of her nude form.

"No. I mean, you didn't have to do that." she too, held her hand up, shaking her head as though to clear her thoughts. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt. I'll be fine." Batman shot a glance at the Joker, waiting for his sardonic reply. It never came. Instead, the Joker was holding up a robe of some sort to Tanya, shielding her from view with his own body as she shrugged into it.

"Thank-you, Jack," he heard her respond. The Joker, or Jack as she called him, bent down and kissed her on the forehead. It was sweet, loving, cute even. It made Bruce's mind reel and his stomach turn with confusion and disgust. This was the man who killed Rachel, perverted Dent into the maniac he now was, who inspired fear, distrust, chaos. And here he was daring to be loving, daring to except caring, daring to hoard such a selfless woman to himself when he had done nothing to deserve her. The audacity of the action, while what remained of Rachel lied cold in a grave, while Dent murdered and rampaged, while a city lay smoldering in its own ashes, caused a uncharacteristic flare of anger to spread through Bruce's being. He wanted to hurt the Joker, not just physically but emotionally. He wanted to put him through all of the pain he had caused Gotham, the pain that the Joker had caused him. His mind reeled, already planning the best way to do it, before reason interfered. He was not like that. He would never be like that. He wouldn't hurt Tanya the way that he was hurt. He wouldn't do it.

But he couldn't just walk away either. That was not how the Batman operated.

"Fine. Stay. But at the end of the week, I'm coming to get you." he looked Tanya in the eye. "And," he turned to the Joker, "We are going to finish this, Dent, Harvey, all of it, whether you like it or not." The Joker grinned.

"Fair enough. See you at the end of the week." Batman nodded.

"Sunday it is, then." he looked at Tanya, the unspoken command passing between them. She had until Sunday to turn him. Then, the Batman stepped in. She nodded.

"Sunday." she quietly repeated. Batman turned suddenly, moving quickly through the apartment and out the door. In a swish of ebony cape he was over the balcony, already fading into the inky darkness of the night.

Sunday. She had until Sunday.

Arms laced around her waist. "Ready to go back to bed?" Tanya turned to look at her lover. She nodded.

4 more days to do the impossible…

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A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers! I know this chapter was shorter, but it is bouncing between a lot of perspectives and I don't want to confuse you all.


	14. Late

The world, her world, had just shattered into a million little pieces. She couldn't believe this. Tanya reached behind her, attempting to steady herself on the sink. Her chest was heaving, her eyes threatening to spill tears.

Calm down, she told herself. Just calm down.

This couldn't be happening. It was just a fluke. She was overreacting. It hadn't even been what, a week?

She could just be late.

The nagging little voice in the back of her mind pointed out that she had been as regular as an almanac since her freshman year of college.

Oh God. Oh God.

Tanya Heathrow had risen that night with an urgent need to use the bathroom. While relieving herself, she had looked over at the sink across from her. The counter was littered with an assortment of items that betrayed her female presence. After washing her hands, she set about straightening it up. She pushed aside a hair brush and came face to face with a box of tampons. It was closed. That's when it hit her. She hadn't used one. Not a single one. Frantically, she combed her mind for the date.

She was late. Three days late. Her stomach flipped, and Tanya nearly collapsed to the tiled floor. Instead, she settled on perching on the tub, her mind racing. This could not be happening. She glance nervously toward the door, wondering whether or not he would realize she was missing. No matter how quiet she tried to be, he always noticed when she left the bed. It was like he couldn't sleep if she wasn't there. She smiled a little at the thought, but her worries soon sobered her. She sucked her lip in between her teeth, her brows creased in slight panic.

You're overreacting, she comforted herself again. But what if she wasn't? What if she was…

She could barely think it.

Pregnant.

God. That couldn't be. The doctors had said that it was unlikely, not after her…incident. And I mean, it had only been a week. She was only late three days. She hadn't even had sex during the peak time. She couldn't be having a baby.

But, something deep down in her heart, some primal knowledge, knew that she was. She was going to be a mother.

The rational side resisted. She couldn't confirm anything. It was only three days late. It couldn't happen. She wasn't having a baby. Not now, not like this. Not with him.

Her heart called her brain out for the liar it was.

The tears threatening to spill broke free like water from a dam. She clung to herself and wondered what in the name of all-that-was-holy was she going to do. She clutched the box of tampons, wishing for the second time in her life that her period would come and assuage her fears.

A little thought in the back of her mind prickled. She had always wanted a child. She was happy she hadn't been pregnant then but had cried when the doctors had told her that the man may have ruined her hopes for a family. She thought she couldn't have children. But here it was, hope that she maybe could. She hadn't had the rapist's child, but she could maybe have Jack's.

Oh God. Jack. What was she going to tell him?

As though on some sort of cosmic cue, the door swung open, revealing her bleary-eyed lover. Upon seeing her poorly concealed tears he made his way over to her.

"What's wrong?" his arm went around her naked shoulders, pulling her into his warm body. He eyed the tampon box she still had a white-knuckled grip on. He coaxed it out of her hand. "PMS-ing?" he asked, flipping the box around in his hands. "Need some chocolate?"

Tanya would have found it funny if her situation wasn't so serious. She could lie, tell him yes, but he was bound to find out she wasn't on her period. That was something a man with his sex drive would notice about their lover. But, she couldn't tell him the truth. What would it do to him? Would she lose Jack? Would the Joker come back?

"No." her heart overpowered her frantically protesting brain. "That's just it. I'm late."

'You Idiot!' Her brain screeched at her heart. '_We _don't even know! And you told him!' Her heart yelled for her brain to shut the hell up so they could hear what he was going to say.

"Late?" it came out as a question, but his eyes were already widening with understanding.

"Yes. Late." she couldn't bring herself to explain it further.

"How many days?" he exhaled deeply, still studying the unopened box in his hands.

"Three." her voice was tentative.

"Have you ever been late before?" he wasn't looking at her and his face betrayed nothing.

"Not in a very long time." he looked up at her.

"Well," he sighed, "this is a problem I never thought we'd have."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I don't know why I didn't think about it. I mean you can't--" she glanced nervously at him, "you can't do what we have been doing without expecting…" she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

"Do you think you're pregnant?" he asked suddenly.

Tanya stared at him. His eyes weren't hard or soft. They were just asking a question. A question to which she knew she owed him the honest answer.

"Yes. I can just feel it. I know that it's soon, but… I just can." she finished somewhat lamely. Her shoulders dropped forward as the prickling behind her eyes returned.

"Do you want to have a baby?" his questions didn't stop.

"Yes," Tanya's voice quivered.

He pulled her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Do you want to have _my _baby?" his eyes demanded the absolute truth.

"Yes." Tanya's voice broke completely. The tears rolled down her face. "I do." she sobbed.

Jack remained still for a moment, then reached for her, pulling her shuddering form into his lap. He kissed the hair at the top of her head.

"I want to be there for him. Or her." he added. "But…I don't see how it's going to work."

"What?" Tanya looked up at him.

"I don't want to leave you. Or the--our baby," he amended. "but, my face, these scars. They are pretty recognizable. Someone will find out."

Tanya couldn't believe it. He wanted the baby. He wanted to be there for the baby, and for her. "We could leave." she suggested, clinging to him.

"Someone will find out sooner or later." Tanya sobbed harder, knowing he was right. Whether he turned himself in, or ran with her, she would raise this baby alone. He was a murderer, a terrorist, a highly wanted man. This would never work.

"I can't be in your life. It's not safe for you or the baby. He can't be the Joker's son. And no one can know you are the mother of the Joker's child." his eyes had a faraway look, like it hurt him to even say the words.

"He won't be the Joker's child. It'll be Jack's child. Yours and mine." her voice wavered with every syllable.

"The world will never see it that way." he insisted. Tanya knew he was right. "You have to go to Bruce. He will take care of you. He hates me, but he will take care of you. Or Jim." she watched him visibly flinch when the names left his lips.

"But I want you," she whispered into his chest so softly she was sure he hadn't heard it. He did.

"I want you too. But, Tanya, I've messed up too badly. I've done too many things. You need someone good for you, good for a child. Someone who will make sure he won't turn out like--" his voice broke off and he turned his head away from her.

"There are worse things to be than you, Jack." she sat up, caressing his face gently. He shook his head.

"It doesn't change all I've done. I can't be a father. I have too many skeletons in my closet." Tanya nodded, realizing the bitter truth of his words, the truth of their situation. Her child, _their_ child, could never know him. The tears doubled over.

"I promise, Jack, I promise I will always let him know how much I loved you, how I loved the real you. And how much you love him, even if you can't be with him." Jack nodded, his eyes misty for the first time in 15 years.

"I know you will Tanya." he kissed her, more passionately then he ever had before. He lifted her up, cradling her smaller form to his chest. Tanya clung to him, trying to bury herself in him, trying to forget that they only had three days now before Bruce came to take him away. He tangled his fingers in her thick curls, holding her as close and as tightly as he could. He made his way back to the bed and lowered them to it. He held her, her back pressed firmly to his chest, one hand intertwined with hers above their heads, the other resting over hers on her stomach. He trailed kisses over her neck and back, whispering sweet sentiments. She pushed further into him, urging him to hold her tighter, to shield them from reality. They stayed like this for upwards of an hour before Tanya dozed off. Jack watched her, knowing he would find no sleep tonight. He wanted to be awake for every minute of the next three days, terrified to miss a moment of this woman.

The mother of his child. It bowled him over, that thought, waking up something deep down in him. A father. That's what he was going to be. He realized that she hadn't taken any official test, but he knew as well as she did that it was certain. She was carrying his child. Their child. He would never be there for the kid. Never see him play, walk, cry, grow up. His eyes stung, releasing the first tears he had cried in 15 years.

The tears dripped down his face, wiping away all remnants of the Joker. It was just Jack now, just a frightened Jack clinging to the woman he loved. He cursed himself and the mistakes he made, knowing that his just punishment was never seeing this child, knowing he could never truly have her.

He pulled her closer, burying his face in the sweet aroma of her hair and wept. His tears were silent but continuous, steadily dampening the thick curls he was nestled in.

Hours later, spent with the guilt and sadness, Jack decided something vital. In three days time, when Batman came, he was right, this was all going to end. He was going to catch Dent and Harley and turn himself in. That way, even if the baby never knew him, Tanya would know he did the honorable thing.

Tanya would know that she had won the game. And most importantly, she would know he had never been happier to lose something in his entire life. He sighed into her hair, letting her warm form lull him to a more relaxed state.

Tanya flickered her eyes open, squeezing the hand that covered hers tightly. She had heard him crying, but knew that the biggest comfort she could be was to let him hold her. So she did.

But inside, she felt her heart break, knowing that this was it.

In three days, it would all be over.

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**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my Uncle Mark, who passed away at the age of 45 on March 15, 2009, the day his little sister was born. Rest in peace Uncle Mark. Your family and friends will never forget you and the brilliant light you cast on all who were lucky enough to receive your love. Keep shining on us in heaven and know that we look forward to meeting you there when our time comes. I love you Uncle and I miss you.**


	15. Last Day

**Warning: this chapter contains adult content of an...intimate nature. If you're under 18 beware.**

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Tanya woke up to someone kissing up her body. It tickled and she giggled, eyes still closed. Her hands wrapped into the dirty blonde hair dragging up her chest and she smiled.

"Good morning Jack." she opened her eyes. Jack was smiling mischievously up at her.

"Good morning baby." he moved up to her lips. She was instantly receptive.

"Did you sleep well?" she murmured against his lips.

"No. I didn't sleep at all. I couldn't stop watching you." he answered honestly, dragging her into his arms. She felt instantly safe and warm. She burrowed her face into his neck.

"I couldn't sleep either. I just wanted to feel you." she leaned up and captured his lips with her mouth. He moaned, pulling her in closer. She licked his lips gently and pulled him down on top of her.

"You can do that now," he whispered suggestively.

"Yeah, I can," she ground against his hips. He groaned at the contact and attached himself to her collarbone, resuming kissing down the length of her body. His lips brushed over the swell of her breasts, not hard enough to leave a mark, but leaving a tingling sensation shooting through her body in his wake. Tanya tried to grab his face and pull it to hers, but he stopped her. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and gently forced them above her head.

"Just go with it," he instructed, his eyebrows wiggling. She whined at the loss of contact and arched her body up. "Down girl," he chuckled into her stomach, the vibrations shooting through her body.

"Jack…" she whined. His head was getting lower, his kisses now trailing over her thighs.

"Shhh…" he whispered. He kept moving.

"Jack. Jack?" he didn't respond. "Jack?" she tried again and was rewarded with another "shhhh…" "Baby…OH MY GOD!" an explosion of sensations rocked her, effectively ending her complaining. She writhed underneath him to the point that he was forced to grip her hips to hold her down to the bed. She wasn't aware of what she was saying, but she knew her mouth couldn't stop moving. Apparently, neither could his. She curled her fist in his hair, nearly ready to come apart. At the last possible second he stopped, leaving her flushed and irritated. "Jack!" she slapped him lightly on the shoulder. He just smirked in response. Her chest was still heaving, and even though he hadn't finished, she wasn't coming down. "Don't be a tease," she pouted.

His smile widened. "You better get use to teasing baby; I've only got you for one more day and I'm going to make the most out of it." he brought his lips back down roughly on hers, forcing her back down on the bed. She squirmed under him, trying to gain control. He pinned her again. "Uh-uh, sweetheart, you're going to have to beg."

"I don't beg," she nipped his ear seductively.

"We'll see," he playfully growled, his hands trailing all over her.

Exactly 24 minutes later, Tanya was begging.

"Jack," she moaned, "please…"

"Please what?" he teased.

"Damn it, I'm carrying your child!" she snapped. "You owe me!" Jack's laughter rang out loud and clear.

"Alright, love. But remember, this is what got you this way in the first place."

Tanya growled and pulled him down on her. And so the day progressed, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes slow and sweet, but above all, it was loving. The love kept flowing through the day, replacing food, water and other basic necessities. Both knew that tonight they would have to face reality. So right now, on their last full day alone together, they lost themselves in each other, in their own little perfect world.

"I love you," she whispered between kisses.

"I love you too," he rolled them over onto their sides and kissed her gently. "I'm going to miss you, baby," she heard him mutter into her hair. Tears stung her eyes before she could stop them.

"I'm going to miss you too." she rolled around so they were chest to chest.

"When--," he swallowed the lump in his throat, "when we get back, I'm going to help the batboy catch the other two" he didn't use their names, there was no need, "and when that's over, I'm going to let them take me in."

"Take you in?" Tanya felt her heart fall.

"Yeah, to prison."

"No!" Tanya protested and shot up straight. "You can't do that!"

"Tanya…" he grabbed her waist and leaned up.

"No!" she pushed him down. "You can't do that to me, to _us_" she gestured to her stomach. "Don't go to prison. Please," tears were streaming down her face, "plead insanity. If you're at Arkham, I still have a chance to see you. Prison will be forever."

"Tanya, listen, I'm not insane…"

"But you can pretend to be!" she was pleading with him now, "Please, please just pretend, for me." She grasped him tightly, trying to still the quaking in her arms. "Please?" Jack sat up and pulled her toward him.

"This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted you to beg," he whispered in her ear, brushing her tears away. Tanya's body heaved with sobs. "Baby, look at me," he gently lifted her face up to his. "Stop crying baby. I'm sorry. I never should have brought you into this."

"Into what?" she asked through her tears.

"Into my world. I should have left you alone. If I had, then you would be safe somewhere and we would have never met. I should have---" he was cut off by her lips against his in a tear drenched kiss.

"Stop it. If I never met you, I would have never saved you. And you would have never saved me." she looked him in the eye. "I don't regret it. I have always wanted to save you."

"You have?" he couldn't help but look skeptical.

"Yes. But I realized it the moment I kissed you on Christmas. I didn't know what I was doing, but fate did." she took a deep breath to calm her crying, "I just didn't expect to fall in love with you,"

He laughed lowly, "The feeling is mutual." she chuckled as well, but they both couldn't shake the weight of what the next 24 hours would bring. "And, Tanya, I'll think about it ok. I just don't want our baby to grow up knowing what his dad used to be. So you have to promise me, no matter what, that you will never tell him. You can't ever bring him to see me. Because that's not something a kid can deal with. Or an adult." he forced her to look up at him. "Promise?"

She swallowed thickly, "I promise Jack." He kissed her deeply, laying them slowly back down. Their kisses were slow but passionate.

"I love you," he groaned, rolling her beneath him. Before she could answer, he smothered her with his lips. She spread her legs, letting him settle between her thighs. He leaned down to kiss her again, shutting his eyes as he slid into her.

"Jack," her moan transformed into an urgent request.

"Yeah baby?" he was rocking slowly against her, the pleasure washing over in excruciatingly slow waves.

"Look at me. Promise you'll look at me the whole time," she instructed. He opened his eyes and locked them on hers.

"I promise." He rocked his hips forward a little harder. She moaned and reared up, but didn't take her eyes off of his. It was intense and extremely intimate.

"I love you, Jack," she rocked against him.

"I love you too," it came out as a gasp. He braced himself against the bed with one hand and lifted her leg with the other. "God, I love you Tanya," he groaned, his eyes still on hers.

"I know," she smiled at him, pleasure coursing through her. "I won't ever forget." Her words drove him over the edge. He increased their pace, hazel locked on brown, both lost in each other. He angled his hips slightly, forcing Tanya to her release. When he reached his own a second later, he collapsed gently on top of her.

"I won't forget either," he promised, laying his forehead on hers.

All Tanya could do was smile.

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A/N: I know that the chapter was a little shorter, but I wanted to give them one more moment to themselves before the end begins. These last few will be slower as far a updating goes, partly because of school and partly because there is a lot going on in my mind that I want to sort out before I write it down. I don't want to rush. Thank you, as always, to my faithful reviewers. You always make my day.


	16. Truce

Tanya couldn't believe they were back here. She was clutching Jack's hand tightly in her own, staring up at Wayne Manor. Jack had her bag swung carelessly over his shoulder and was looking through the back gates at the building as well. He glanced over at her, and seeing her expression, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"He'll be out any second now, and then we'll end this." He smiled at her. She smiled weakly back. The end was exactly what she was worried about. Even if all went according to plan, she still ultimately lost, because she was going to lose him no matter how this played out. She understood that now and accepted it. But damn it, she didn't have to like it.

It had all been Jack's idea. He had packed up her things, announcing that they were going to meet Bruce before he came for them, as a sign of solidarity. She had numbly agreed with what he wanted, thinking of no better idea herself and seeing the point. She wished he would have decided that Bruce was going to have to bust down the door and take her kicking and screaming. But he would never do that. Because if Bruce ever touched her in a way she didn't want him to, even if he thought it was for her own good, she knew that Jack would slide back and the Joker would step up and put Bruce down.

She had worked too hard for Jack to lose him to that. So she agreed and was now freezing her ass off at the gates of Wayne Manor, awaiting Bruce's inevitable arrival. Jack pulled her closer to him to warm her up, rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. Their hands linked under her jacket and over her stomach. He smiled at the contact and kissed her on the top of the head.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she responded easily, leaning up to capture his lips in a quick kiss.

"Be strong." he reminded her of what she promised when they broke apart.

"I will be."

"I know. You've always been strong." he sounded proud. She couldn't stop the warm sensation that spread through upon hearing his tone. She snuggled into his chest.

"What the hell is taking him so long?" she asked a few minutes later. Her limbs were freezing.

"No idea. Probably watching us to see if we pull anything."

"Oh yeah. I forgot he thinks we're in cahoots." she smiled wryly.

"Yeah, well sleeping with me and carrying our baby doesn't really point too strongly against that." Her jaw dropped a little at the blatant statement, but she understood his reasoning. He chuckled and leaned down toward her ear. "Ten bucks says batboy hauls ass now that he's heard that." Tanya giggled. It really wasn't funny, but it was somehow comforting that his particular brand of humor was still in tact.

Sure enough, within minutes the sound of booted feet crunching against gravel became louder as Alfred came into view.

"Welcome home, Miss Tanya." he smiled warmly at her through the gate. His eyes flickered up to Jack. "I believe he mentioned something about you being pregnant?"

"Let us in, and we'll explain it all." Jack spoke up, not with malice, but strangely calmly. It was almost like how he spoke when he was the Joker, except it was devoid of malice. Nevertheless, it was commanding.

"Very well. I'm afraid though, that Master Bruce insists that you be handcuffed," he was gesturing at Jack. Jack complied immediately, reluctantly removing his arms from Tanya and folding them behind him. He turned so that his back was to Alfred, his wrists exposed. Alfred quickly secured the cuffs. "Shall we?" he asked simple, leading them into the mansion. Jack smiled at her and nodded his head.

The warmth was an immediate relief as they passed through the doors. The wide halls and rooms echoed with their presence. Tanya realized what a lonely existence it must be to be the Batman. Living all alone, no family, friends or even confidants, save Alfred, and for a short time, herself. It was no wonder that Bruce had poured so much emotion into loving Rachel Dawes. She was literally (with the exception of Alfred, of course) the only one he had. Tanya glanced over at Jack. He was calmly taking in their surroundings with the practiced glances of someone who was used to finding the quickest escape route. He saw her studying him out of the corner of his eye.

"I love you,' he mouthed.

Tanya thought she now knew what it must be like for someone to lose someone they cared about like Bruce cared about Rachel. She blinked rapidly, disguising her weakness as Alfred led them up the stairs and into her old room. Bruce was standing near the window, looking out on the scenery. He turned when they entered and nodded at Alfred. Alfred and him exchanged some of their patented silent communication before Alfred simply took a seat in the back corner of the room.

"Well, Tanya. I was going to come and get you, but you showed up here. _Both _of you." he didn't bother to disguise his surprise. "Mind letting me in on what you are doing?" Bruce folded his arms over his chest. He looked perfectly at ease, but Tanya knew that he was regarding the carefully, ready to strike at any moment.

"May we sit?" she asked. Bruce nodded and Tanya sat on the bed. Jack sat next to her, surprisingly skilled despite his handcuffs.

"I've had a lot of experience with these things" he said in response to her slightly questioning look, gesturing to the cuffs. She shook her head at him, smiling slightly, and turned to face Bruce.

"Jack has a proposition for you," she said to him.

"Jack?" Bruce's lip curled slightly in disgust.

"That's my name." Jack smiled at him. "She pried it out of me. And I do have a proposition for you."

"I don't think I care." Bruce shot back coldly. "You're going to do what you said you would four days ago."

"Of course," Jack agreed, shifting just slightly on the mattress, "And I'll do more. I'll help you catch Dent and Quinzel. I'll even give you the names of everyone I've ever worked with. And here's the clincher. You can bring me in and I'll testify against them all. I won't plead insane--" Tanya swallowed thickly. He had won that argument earlier that day. "and they can do whatever they want with me. But there's a catch. You have to do something for me. Or for us, rather."

Bruce looked concerned at his use of 'us.' "And what would that be?"

"Promise to take care of her when I'm gone." Jack said simply. "Make sure she gets what she needs, her family, Jim, you, whatever it may be," it took a Herculean effort on his part to ask for this, " and when our kid comes, make sure he never knows who his dad is."

Bruce and Alfred were visibly shocked. "You agreed to this?" Bruce asked Tanya incredulously.

"I did. We both agreed-" she sniffled, "that our baby should never know because…" she trailed off.

"I was a monster." Jack's own voice held an air of disgust, "And a person can't live a normal life knowing his dad was the most hated man on earth. So I'm turning over a new leaf." Jack said in a strong voice, but he scooted closer to Tanya. He pressed his side to hers, the best he could do to comfort her physically without his hands. "I'll go out with honor. But you have to promise me you won't take the hate you have for me out on her. Or the kid." he looked seriously at Bruce.

Bruce stood up and studied them. "How do you even know you're pregnant?" he asked her.

"I know I am. I've never missed a period before, and we've, well we've you know…"

"She means we've had so much sex, it's pretty much a given." Jack rolled his eyes at Bruce. Tanya slapped him on the arm for his blatant statement. "What?" he asked her. "We have. Nothing he doesn't know."

"I know, but Jack, you didn't have to say it like that."

"Sorry, baby." he kissed her lightly on the lips.

"It's okay." she leaned into him. Bruce watched the two of them intensely. Their body language was intimate, like a couple who knew all their was to know about one another. They looked like they were in love. And the Joker? Well, the Joker didn't look so much like the Joker anymore. He looked like a young man totally whipped by love. It occurred to Bruce that they were probably around the same age. He thought of how much he loved Rachel, and what the man in front of him had taken from him. And now the Joker (Jack?) wanted him to protect the same thing for him?

"Why are you asking _me_ for this?" he asked Jack pointblank.

"Because I love her. And I don't want to do to her what I did to you when I set up Rachel." it was the first time the Joker had ever said her name that way. Bruce swallowed the rage building up inside of him. Tanya's face immediately showed concern and worry.

"How dare you," Bruce began.

"Look," Jack cut him off. "Bruce, I'm sorry. I was a selfish, apathetic bastard with no regard for human emotion. And I did something terrible to you. And I know I can never take it back and nothing I can do will make it better. But don't be me man. The reason you always win is because you have something that I was missing for a really long time. You have the ability to feel. Don't shut it out. Don't lock your heart like that. Because trust me. Once you hate just one person, it's easy to start hating them all, until you end up like I did." Tanya began to quietly cry.

Bruce just stared at the two of them for a very long time. The Joker had just apologized to him, in a surprisingly heartfelt manner, and it left him reeling. Was this a trick? The silence hung heavily between the couple seated on the bed and the men in front and behind them. Alfred stirred in his seat, but Jack and Bruce didn't break eye contact, scarcely blinking.

"You could have run away with her." Bruce said finally.

"I could have," Jack agreed.

"But you didn't."

"No. The beauty of Tanya is she taught me what it is to be a real man. And what kind of man would I be if I didn't try to clean up my messes?" Bruce chuckled wryly.

"Mess is the understatement of the millennium. We've got two psychos out there loose."

"I know. But I know how they run. Hell, I practically created them. And I'll help you shut them down.'

"Even if it means trusting me with the fate of your girl and kid?"

"I love her." Tanya couldn't believe that Jack had just admitted this to Bruce. "I want the best for her. And I'm not it. But I know you'll do the right thing."

"And how do you know that?" Bruce couldn't keep the harsh edge out of his voice.

"Because if there was one thing you always did, and it use to drive me insane," Jack smiled at him and raised a brow. "it was the right thing. The infallible Batman. And Bruce is no different."

Bruce looked between Jack and Tanya.

"You love him?" he asked her.

"I do." she nodded through her tears. Another long silence stretched between the four of them. Bruce sat back down, head in hands and thought for what could have been an hour. Tanya cried into Jack's shoulder until Alfred stood up and unlocked his handcuffs, allowing Jack to wrap his arms around Tanya. Jack said nothing, but nodded in appreciation. Alfred just smiled and went back to sit down. Finally, Bruce looked up at the pair through slightly bloodshot eyes.

"Do you have a plan?" he asked Jack.

"Of course," Jack smiled at him.

"Alright then. Let's end this…Jack" he said the name tentatively, like trying a new food for the first time. He reached his hand out toward the other man.

"Alright, Bruce." Jack shook it.

* * *

****

A/N: Phew, I know that took a while, sorry. Life has been hectic. I promise the end is near, but I'm having a little trouble condensing it, so I have no idea how many more chapters this is going to span. You're reviews are always wonderful and appreciated. I know Tanya and Alfred didn't have a lot to say in this chapter, but this was more of a heart to heart for Bruce and Jack anyway. Thanks to you readers for hanging in there with me. I'll update ASAP. I promise.


	17. Arguments

"I'm going." Tanya stomped her foot childishly, but she didn't care. He had a lot of nerve trying to tell her what she could and couldn't do.

"You're not."

"I am."

"Look, there is no way in hell you are going!" Jack looked up from what he was doing.

"Why not?" Tanya tried a different approach. Jack looked at her incredulously.

"Are you kidding me? Because you're pregnant!"

"So?"

"Tanya, really? Do you want something to happen to the baby?" he was standing up now and quickly crossing over to her. She held her ground.

"No. But I don't want anything to happen to you either."

"I've been through worse than this. I'll be fine." he was right in front of her.

"You don't know that." she crossed her arms over her chest, bracing herself for battle.

"Better me than you. You're not getting dragged further into this mess. I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" Tanya glared up at him, "Since when do you control me?"

"Damn it. Stop. You're not going. I swear to God I will tie you up. But you aren't going." Jack's voice had a since of absolute finality.

"So you're just going to leave me here alone?" she pouted now, trying a different tactic.

"Yes. It's better than you being out there where a crazed, jealous bitch who wants to kill you."

"Well, if she does, it's your fault." she knew it was a low blow, but she was mad at him.

"I know!" he practically roared at her. For a moment Tanya feared she had pushed him too far. He grabbed her roughly, not enough to hurt her, but to startle her. He forced her to look him in the eyes. "I know," he repeated more gently, "which is why you have to stay here. You're not getting hurt for me again. Especially now."

"But Jack…" she tried again.

"No. If she hurts you. I swear to God, I'll really go crazy. I'll kill her, and then who knows what else." he was looking at her seriously. "Do you understand?" he asked.

"I do. But that doesn't change my mind. You need my help. Or this will never work."

"Damn it Tanya," Jack groaned, frustrated. "No. That's final. N-O!" he drug the word out.

"Jack--"

"He's right," a new voice entered their room and cut in. "You're in no condition to go." she turned around, pissed to see Bruce taking Jack's side against her.

"You taught me how to fight. Quinzel is nothing I can't take." she protested.

"It's not only you we have to worry about now." Jack stood next to Bruce, the two men simultaneously staring her down. She made a frustrated sound in her throat.

"You two are unbelievable. Now you agree? You hate each other!" she threw out lamely.

Jack grinned in wry amusement. "We do."

"But we agree on this. You're not going." Bruce said with finality.

"Alright then, so how are you going to lure them out?"

"I think the two of us are famous enough to attract attention on our own." Jack laughed.

"We're going to stage a fight. It'll draw out Quinzel at very least," Bruce explained.

"She's not stupid enough to do that. She knows you would just catch her, Bruce. But she hates me. If I'm there, with Jack, she's sure to come. She wants him."

"Tanya, don't start again," Jack warned.

"Jack, you know I'm right. And it'll be the motivation to attract Dent too. He'll want to take away what Jack cares about most. It's his little revenge deal." Jack and Bruce looked warily at each other. "You know I have a point." Tanya saw her opening and struck. "You could play cat and mouse for months with your plan. Or you can do what I suggest and end it now. With minimum casualties."

"Bruce," Jack looked at his unlikely ally. It was clear that the two men were starting to bend. "I need to talk to Tanya for a minute." Bruce nodded.

"I'm going to ask Alfred what he thinks," for the first time Bruce seemed to realize he was holding something in his hand. "Oh yeah, here." he pushed them into Jack's hand. Jack looked at them for a moment as Bruce left he and Tanya's borrowed room, shutting the door behind them.

Tanya sighed, suddenly tired. She lowered herself wearily to the bed. Jack sat next to her. He placed the pictures in his hand in her lap.

"That's our baby," he said gesturing to the ultrasound pictures, "Bruce said he or she has a heartbeat already." Tanya had gotten an ultra sound from a doctor that Bruce had on retainer earlier that day. It killed Jack that Bruce had been the one holding her hand through it. He couldn't go. He hadn't even turned himself in now, and he was already missing out on her and their baby.

Tanya took the pictures and shuffled through them slowly, a silence between them building. Without warning, she choked on a sob.

"I wanted you there this morning. It wasn't the same without you," she admitted through her tears. The look in her eyes nearly killed him.

"I wanted to be there." he pulled her into his arms.

"I just want to be with you."

"You _are_ with me." he insisted.

"I want to be with you for every minute until you're gone. I don't want you to go out there without me." Now, Jack understood why she was pushing so hard to be involved in their plan.

"Look. Tanya. When this all goes down, I would rather you not be there. I'm going to have to be the Joker again. I have to wear the makeup and everything and who knows what I'm going to have to do in the end. I don't want you there to see that. Plus, if you're seen with us, Bruce can't take care of you. You can't associate yourself with us if this future we have planned is going to work," he explained.

"I know," she sobbed. "I just don't want you to walk out that door, and I'll never see you again." she lapsed into a fit of tears. Jack just held her, unsure of what to say. Apparently, no words were necessary. Tanya leaned up and kissed him fiercely, with a demanding possessiveness that shocked him. Jack decided to go with it and hefted her up. She forced him flat on his bed, pressing him down and straddling him.

"Tanya," Jack opened his mouth to question her actions, but she covered it with her own, effectively silencing him. Jack laid back and let her take the lead, allowing her to pour all her insecurities in fear out physically.

Alfred and Bruce stood outside in the hall. Bruce made no effort to disguise the disgust on his face, but Alfred simply grabbed his employer's arm and steered him away.

"Is that how's she going to convince him?" Bruce's tone suggested her had never heard anything more disgusting. "By sleeping with him?"

"Well," Alfred began, determinedly ignoring the noises coming from the room, "She does love him. And very soon, she's going to be raising a child on her own, with no hope of the father ever being there."

"What did she expect?" Bruce fumed down the stairs and into the den.

"I don't think she really thought of the consequences." Alfred followed him into the room and down the entrance to the caves.

"Well, that's obvious. She just sleeps with him, with no protection. I mean, God, she's lucky all she got was pregnant!" Alfred listened silently, knowing Bruce needed to get this out. "And then they come down here, and he's all changed and putting up this front. And she just eats it up! She's so wrapped up in him she's not even thinking! She could hurt herself, or the baby!"

"Well, why do you care about the baby, if you hate him?" Alfred questioned.

"Well," Bruce's tone softened a tad, "I don't hate her. And the baby is half hers…"

"Ah, and do you think that you may be being a tad harsh on Miss Heathrow? The last year had been rough on her. She never asked for this. She's just playing the cards she is dealt."

Bruce fumed silently, stomping around the cave.

"People do crazy things for love. Look at you."

"I let Rachel die to save Dent!" Bruce's voice exploded. "and look where it got me!"

"Tanya Heathrow made the Joker fall in love with her at the expense of her own feelings and future. And look where it got her. You both took risks for the greater good, and you both are going to have to deal with them for the rest of your lives. So don't judge her too harshly, Master Bruce."

"It's not her. It's him. How did he change so completely, so quickly?" Bruce's voice was quiet and almost defeated.

"Love is a powerful thing. It changed Dent into a maniac and brought the Joker back to humanity."

Bruce sighed. "She's right you know. We're going to need her to get Quinzel."

"We will," Alfred nodded and agreed, letting the younger man change the subject. He had gotten the majority of the frustration out. There would be time to rant when this was over.

"We need to make sure she won't be hurt though. I don't know how…" He trailed off, trying to formulate a plan.

"Well, perhaps Jack will have an idea. He seems to be a mastermind of complicated plans that are strikingly simple." Bruce swiveled in his chair slightly, remembering the many times the man had evaded all of the authorities. Maybe Alfred was right.

"True. We're over thinking this."

"I would suggest that you send her and Jack out together. He will protect her."

"Yeah, probably," Bruce looked up at him. "Why are you calling him Jack?"

"Well, to be honest sir, I much prefer it to the Joker. It helps to think we only have two deranged lunatics to capture, not three." Bruce allowed himself to laugh.

"Jack it is then."

Back upstairs, Tanya was laying on top of Jack, spent. He was holding her against him, watching her wearily. Tanya's look was vacant and far off, like she was grappling with something. Jack waited for her to talk, but ten minutes later, it was apparent that she wasn't going to initiate conversation.

"What's wrong, baby?" he shook her gently.

"Nothing." her voice lacked it's trademark spark.

"Like hell. Tell me." he demanded.

She sighed, "I'm just upset that in a few days, I'm going to be pregnant and alone!" she snapped and got up off of him. Before he could register what was happening, she had locked herself in the bathroom.

"Baby…" Jack sighed and got up, unsure of what to say. He tried the handle to the door. "Baby, let me in so we can talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about right? I'm not going. You're just going to walk out of this door and either get killed of get arrested, and that's that!" she mocked his earlier tone of finality. "I bet you can't wait to get away from me!" Jack could hear her banging around.

"Tanya, you know that's not the case." she didn't respond, but he heard her sob clearly through the oak of the door. "Look, baby, you know I don't want to leave you. We talked about this."

"Why wouldn't you run with me?" she choked out from inside the bathroom.

"Because, eventually we would get caught. And then not only would I have to leave you, you would be brought up on charges of aiding a fugitive and God knows that else. And then what would happen to the baby?" the sobs came harder.

"Do you love me?" her question was almost a whisper.

"You know I do."

"Do you regret meeting me?"

Jack lowered himself down in front of the door wearily. "The only thing I regret is letting myself become the Joker, because now I have to pay for it by leaving you." the sobs continued. "Tanya, the last thing I want to do is leave you. I want to be here, I want to raise our kid, I want to live a normal life. But I messed up too badly, and I drug you into it. And I'm sorrier than you could ever know. But don't ever think I don't love you. No one I didn't love would pull me out of insanity." he waited for a response.

The door swung open after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. Tanya's face was tear-streaked and her eyes were bloodshot. She looked miserable. Jack stood up and pulled her into his chest immediately.

"I just want to know that raising this kid without you is going to be worth it. I'm so scared. This is going to be hard." she burst into tears again.

"I know Tanya," he rocked her, "I know. I'm sorry. I love you. I never wanted you to have to go at this alone." she cut him off with another kiss.

"Just hold me," she instructed. So Jack did.

"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry," he repeated. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Tanya looked up at Jack. "Want me to answer it?" he asked. She nodded.

"I'm just going to jump in the shower." she stood up and wiped her eyes. "Will you join me when you're done?"

"Of course." he kissed her on the forehead. Tanya nodded and moved back into the bathroom. He watched her go before pulling on his jeans and opening the door. Alfred was standing there.

"Hello, I hope I didn't interrupt too much," Jack rubbed his eyes, but shook his head.

"Come in," Alfred stepped into the room.

"Master Bruce and I think we have a plan that includes us all and will make us all happy. Well, maybe not happy, but not angry." he chuckled wryly.

"Let's hear it." Jack folded his arms over his chest.

* * *

**A/N: I know that updates are slow coming, but a few loose ends needed to be wrapped up before the final showdown. I think it'll happen in the next chapter or so. Thanks for the review and encouragement and for hanging in there. **


	18. Kidnappedagain

Tanya sat on a park bench, outwardly calm, but inwardly shaking with nerves. This had been her fifth outing this week. She had gradually reintroduced herself into society, returning to her old apartment, going to the grocery store, the video rental shop, cruising through town. The plan was to get Harley to notice and to come after her. So far, it was a slow process. She had expected, perhaps unrealistically, that she would step out of Wayne Manor and immediately be accosted by Dent and Quinzel. That was not the case. She went out each day for nearly a week, trying to remain inconspicuously conspicuous, trying to attract attention without being obvious. It was hard work. Though she knew it had been her who had pressed to be in on the plan, she was so nervous she could barely breathe. The only thing that was holding her together was the fact that when she came back to that apartment in the evenings, it wasn't empty. Jack was there 24-7 and Bruce stopped by at night. When she was out on her little excursions, she was monitored at all times and required to wear bullet proof armor under her clothing. It was made of a material similar to the Bat suit, but manufactured to fit her body like a second glove. She realized that if she was shot in the head it would be useless, but it covered the rest of her, and more importantly, her womb.

Jack was what could be described as a nervous wreck. He paced almost constantly, on the brink of some sort of emotional explosion. It was obvious that he still didn't approve of the plan to lure out their enemies. Even though she only spent a maximum of three or four hours out of the apartment, he was a nervous wreck. He worried that something would happen to her, or that the stress alone would hurt the baby.

Tanya had to admit that she was worried too. She had whispered this to Jack last night and the following morning he had immediately called Bruce to tell him in no uncertain terms that if the plan didn't work by the end of the week then that was the end of it. It would go back to plan A.

It was the last day. So Tanya sat on the park bench, feeling absurdly like the cheese in a mousetrap. She people watched for an hour or so then snacked on a bag of chips and flipped through a magazine. When her allotted time to be out expired, she breathed a sigh of relief. She would never have to do this again. With any luck, she would have another week with Jack. She smiled slightly at the warm feeling the thought gave her and fished out her phone from her bag. It was a special private phone that Bruce had financed through his company. It couldn't be traced, or at least, it couldn't be traced by anyone outside of his company. She dialed the number she had long since memorized and waited patiently. He picked up on the third ring.

"Hey," she greeted, "Another no go. I should be home soon."

"Alright. Good." Jack too sounded relieved. "I'll be waiting for you baby."

"Ok. I love you."

"Love you too. Be careful." he advised.

"I will." she promised then hung up. She gathered her bag up and headed down the street to her car. When she got to the parking lot, her car wasn't in the space. Damn it. Tanya began to panic. This wasn't part of the plan. She needed her car. She couldn't be out here alone. She quickly groped in her bag for her phone, but was unable to find it. She shook it and focused all of her attention on the bag, trying to locate it in the recesses of her purse. She finally found it and pulled it out, dialing the number again. Before she could hit send, something caught her eye across the parking lot. It was her car. She breathed a sigh of relief. She just forgot where she parked it. She strode as quickly as she could across the paved parking lot. When she got closer to her car, she couldn't shake the premonition that something was horribly wrong. She slowed, observing her car warily from a distance. Deciding to go with her gut, she stopped and went to call Jack. Before she could, she heard a car pull up rapidly behind her. She spun, and was just in time to see the doors of an all white van swing open and to be forced inside. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand silenced her.

Her feet left the pavement as a pair of strong hands gripped her and forced her into the bottom of the van. Determined not to go down without a fight she bit as hard as she could. Her assailant removed his hand from her mouth and she sucked in a breath to scream. When she went to let it out she was again silenced, but this time by a hand connecting solidly with the side of her face. She let out a cry of pain. The door of the van slid closed and she found herself in an all-too-familiar situation.

"Good to see you again Tanya," she recognized that venomous steer. Steeling herself and ignoring the burning pain in the side of her face, she raised her eyes to look at Harvey Dent. He had a crazed look in his eye and even though Tanya had seen him before, she was having issues holding eye contact.

"Dent," she greeted coolly. She glanced toward the driver's seat and was unsurprised to see lemon-colored hair just visible over the top of the seat. She gripped the phone in her hand, trying to inconspicuously hit send and dial Jack. Dent noticed.

"Call him," he nodded his head in the phone's direction.

"Call who?" Tanya stalled. Surely he couldn't know.

"The Joker. I know he's waiting for your call. Tell him to come and get you."

"Why would the Joker come for me?" Tanya kept her tone level, but her heart rattled in her chest.

"You know he will." Dent was smirking at her.

"He won't. He doesn't care about me," Tanya's mouth suddenly felt very full.

Dent laughed a hollow, mirthless laugh. "He does. I know he's in your apartment right now. I know he's waiting for you to call. I know he cares. You need to pay more attention to who's watching you. Call him." The world spun. Oh God, this was awful. Tanya tried to remain calm and formulate a plan. Soon Bruce would notice that she was off course, Jack would notice she wasn't at home and then the two of them could come and get her. She just needed to stall.

"Why?" she asked Dent, praying that he didn't know she was in cahoots with Batman.

"He took away what I most cared about. He didn't care about anything, so I let him live. But now he has something. And now he's going to feel what it's like to lose it." Dent's smile widened psychotically.

"Damn Dent. Let's just kill the bitch now and drop her body off where he'll find it!" apparently the blonde in the front seat couldn't contain her hate anymore. She glared at Tanya through the rear view mirror. Tanya bit her tongue. She longed to put the pixie-bitch in her place, but now was not the time.

"Shut up Harley!" Dent growled, looking back at her briefly. Harley shut her mouth, but continued to glare daggers. Tanya could feel the hate saturating the air.

Dent looked back at Tanya. "You're going to call the Joker. You're going to tell him he's going to meet us at the old hiding spot at five. You're going to tell him he's going to come alone. And then we're going to finish this." Tanya couldn't help but shutter at the familiar words. It seemed like Bruce was not the only one ready to end the Joker's games. Dent's tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument. That and the gun in his hand were making Tanya seriously consider listening to him. "If he doesn't do that. I'll kill you and leave your body for him to find," Tanya swallowed thickly. "If he does, you get the same chance as everyone else." He flipped a coin. "Fifty-fifty."

"I still say we kill her now. She's been nothing but trouble," Harley growled.

"Do you want the Joker back or not?" Dent directed his question at the blonde.

"Yes…"

"Then shut the hell up! Go with the fucking plan!" he snarled. "Call him," he jerked Tanya's hand up to her ear. "Do it now."

Tanya obeyed, fear coursing through her veins. She barely heard the ringing through the blood pumping furiously.

"Tanya? Where the hell are you?" Jack sounded almost pissed.

"Um…" she stuttered, remembering not to use his real name. "Dent, he--" she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Dent what?" Jack was obviously scuffling around, his voice tinged with anger.

"He has me. He wants you to meet him at five-"

"FUCK!" you could hear the curse ring through the car. Dent smiled triumphantly.

Tanya blinked back tears. "He wants you to meet at five at the meeting spot." she finished quickly, before the combination of emotions and hormones betrayed her.

"GIVE THE PHONE TO THAT FUCKER! I'M GONNA…HE'S GONNA WISH HE WAS NEVER BORN!" Tanya passed the phone off quickly, before she could utter any words that would betray their relationship further. It was crucial that Dent was kept as ignorant as possible.

Dent took the phone. "Hey there Joker," he smiled casually. Tanya could hear Jack ranting through the phone. She swallowed and tried to compose herself. This was bad, this was so bad. Jack might revert back, Jack might be killed, she might be killed, the baby…

And then Tanya found herself ignoring everything else in the van, ignoring Harley's triumphant smirks, Dent's cackling laughter, everything, and praying with everything in her that God would spare them all.

* * *

**A/N: So it's finals time at school. Which is unfortunate because the end of this story is right around the corner. Maybe two more chapters and an epilogue. I hope at least. I don't want to rush it. Thank you for the reviews!**


	19. Heads or Tails

Tanya was tied to a chair in some empty warehouse somewhere in Gotham. It perturbed her that this was such a regular occurrence in her life lately and she found herself wondering about the quantity of unused warehouses in Gotham. If she got out of here, she was going to have to write her congressman and complain.

She pulled on her restraints again, testing the ropes. Damn, they were tight. Harley had taken no chances in securing her. She tried not to glare at the petite blonde in the corner. The woman had been shooting her nasty looks for the past hour and had done everything in her power to make Tanya's stay hellish. Not that she had expected to be treated well, but with every "accidental" hit Harley delivered to her head, the anger bubbled to the point where it was minutes away from seething over.

Dent was pacing somewhere in the background. Of all of the stark and frightening scenery, Dent was by far the most concerning. He mumbled to himself incessantly, muttering vindictive phrases, snarling and occasionally glancing her way. There was a kind of triumphant gleam in his eye, like the cat with the canary. Those cold, cobalt eyes seemed to pierce her, seeing right through her façade into her inner insecurities. Tanya was certain that if she met his glance all of her secrets, all of her and Jack's secrets, would burst forth like a dam and drown her. She quickly averted her eyes, praying with all her might for a miracle.

"Almost five now," Dent's muttering had grown more audible as he paced into the room, flipping the coin in his hands feverishly. "in a few minutes he's going to know what it feels like to lose someone," his eyes flickered back to Tanya. His face contorted into a grotesque smile.

"I still say we kill her now. It'll hurt him either way." Harley spoke up from the corner of the room, hateful eyes trained on Tanya. Her hatred for Tanya apparently outweighed any feelings she had for the Joker's well being.

"No!" Dent whipped his head around and snarled, "I want him to hear her die! I want to do to him what he did to me!" His eyes became wide and crazed, almost excited. Tanya felt a fear like she had never felt before creep on her. Nothing compared, not even the first time she had come face-to-face with the Joker.

"But you're not going to kill him right?" Harley's voice suddenly was filled with a sugary sweet concern. Tanya wanted to rip every strand of hair out of her head and feed it to her. She couldn't keep the venomous glare off of her face.

"No. Not unless I have to." Dent was making his way skittishly back into the other room, his mumbling continuing.

"Good," Harley exhaled heavily, seemingly deep in thought. Suddenly her eyes snapped up and trained on Tanya. She smiled slowly, something that Tanya could tell was her seductive grin, something she used against men. But as a woman, she found it disgusting. The green-eyed monster reared its head, demanding that she destroy the threat in front of her. She watched the tinier woman sashay over to her chair with malicious intent. Tanya narrowed her eyes, bracing herself for what would inevitably lead to her becoming extremely angry.

She was not disappointed. "You know," Harley was leaning over her, her cleavage hanging precariously in Tanya's face, her voice nearly a purr, "once he gets here and after we're done with you, I'm going to show him what he's been missing all these months when he's been trapped with you." Tanya bit her cheek, trying to hold back a stream of retorts. "And, you know," Harley continued deviously, so low Tanya was forced to strain to hear her, "he was only with you because it was part of his plan. He's got what he wanted from you and now he can come back to the real deal. Someone who understands him." Harley smirked.

Tanya could restrain herself no longer. The bitch had the audacity to assume that she knew him. It was almost laughable. She bit out her retort. "It's true. He probably had his fill of me, seeing as he kept coming back about three times a day. And it's funny; he never once said your name. Almost like he didn't give a damn about you. Maybe blonde and insane isn't his type." Tanya kept her voice and eyes level, her lips just turned up at the corners.

She could have sworn flames leapt up in her adversary's eyes. Harley's face convulsed with anger. Tanya smirked inwardly at the small victory. Quinzel snapped up ramrod straight. "Bitch!" she spat at her, unable to come up with a more intelligent comeback. "It doesn't matter anyway. In an hour, you'll be dead. And no one will be here to get between me and him." she smirked triumphantly and flounced away, flipping her hair as she went.

Loathe as she was to admit it, Tanya felt her innards sink. She was right; if a miracle didn't happen, her life would end. And not just hers, but her baby's. In some cruel twist of irony, she felt a bout of something akin to morning sickness twist her insides. She turned her head quickly, spilling everything she had eaten that day on the concrete next to her. She grimaced in disgust, her eyes wet with tears.

This was bad. This was so, very bad.

The minutes dragged by alarmingly slowly, punctuated only by Dent's occasional frantic mutters and insult from Harley. Tanya remained stock still, her mind unable to formulate any concrete thought, fear overpowering all of her senses. The cement echoed with the sound of footsteps or a cough. Tanya experimentally rocked back in her chair, testing the weight. The resulting screech of wood on the floor immediately brought an angry Dent charging back into the room. The look in his eyes was enough to motivate Tanya not to move anymore.

Five o'clock was fast approaching. Anxiety burned in the bottom of Tanya's stomach like still-hot embers from a fire. She swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly full. This was the moment of truth. She felt a sliver of doubt enter her mind; what if Jack didn't come? Her doubts were silenced by a knock on the door. Tanya's breath hitched.

Harley flounced out of the back room, a bright smile pasted on her face. "Who is it?" she crooned. Tanya was startled to see her tricked out in an outfit extremely similar to the outfit that the Joker had forced her to wear months ago. It was a skintight Harlequin outfit. Tanya would have laughed at the irony of it had she not been overcome with intense violent desires. Harley winked at her as she sashayed to the door and pulled it open. The sight that met Tanya nearly floored her. It was Jack, but not as he had been for the last few weeks. The Joker was back. His hair was greasy and unkempt, the makeup back to its normal caked-on consistency. His eyes were cold and hard, his mouth once again twisted in it's cruel charade of a smile.

"Harley," he nodded his head at her in greeting. His eyes were trained on the tiny form in front of him. He raked them over her body, taking in every inch of her outfit. He grinned again, or rather, one side of his mouth rose comically. "Looking good," he complimented her. Harley grinned from ear to ear.

"It's all for you baby," she batted her eyelashes at him. His grin widened further, and he pulled the woman in, not sparing one glance for Tanya. Tanya looked on increasing horror, wondering who the man in front of her was now, Jack or the Joker? She tried in vain to control her breathing, wishing that Jack would just glance over at her, or give her any sign that he was in there. Her eyes widened as Harley leaned up and captured the father of her child's lips with her own, pressing her body to his in a rough kiss.

He returned it, pulling the tinier woman into his arms, returning her affections full force. It was a disgusting spectacle, made all the more intolerable by the wave of heartbreak that crashed over Tanya in that one horrible moment. Harley pulled away first, giggling almost maniacally. She shot Tanya a malicious look over her shoulder, her smile one of triumph. Tanya willed her face to steel up, refusing to acknowledge any emotion she may or may not have been feeling. It was all in vain; Harley had already turned back to him and was shooting him puppy dog eyes, practically prancing around him. Tanya stared at the man who had her heart, willing him to look up at her.

He did. He held her glance for the briefest of moments. It may have been some trick of the light, but Tanya saw his eyes soften in color for a second, as though he was trying to will her to understand something important. Tanya decided to trust her gut instinct. She decided it was Jack standing in front of her, Jack dressed in the Joker's clothing. She took a deep breath. She was prepared to go with whatever plan he had. For the thousandth time that evening she asked God to deliver them all.

"Well, look who's back," another baritone voice joined the fray, a wry sense of humor tinting his voice. Tanya turned her head and looked at Dent.

"Can't have you trying to take my crown as the Clown Prince of Chaos," Jack was snarling back. The two men were looking at each other with extreme distaste, like lions preparing to battle to the death. Harley seemed conflicted as to who she should stand behind, and after looking between the two extremely pissed off men, moved off to the side.

"So you caring for her," Dent flitted his eyes to Tanya for a second, "has nothing to do with why you showed up?" his triumphant grin widened.

"She's an important piece of the puzzle," Jack strode forward, the arrogance back in his stride, undaunted by the man he had created. "I can't have you kill her just yet. Plus, she's mine." he was right in front of Dent now, attempting to stare him down.

Dent snarled, "No, she's not yours. She's mine. And we're going to see just how important she is to you."

Jack laughed, the maniacal cackle bouncing off of the rooms smooth surfaces. He was doubled over in mirth. It was so convincing that Dent seemed off put, Harley grinned and added the tinkle of her giggle to the melody and even Tanya was stricken by another doubtful moment. Jack continued for another moment or so before straightening up.

"Now that," he held up a finger to punctuate his statement, "is funny. I thought I was the jokester, but apparently more of me has rubbed off on you than I thought. These two," he gestured to Harley and Tanya simultaneously, "are all just part of the game." Harley looked outright offended.

"But.." she sputtered, "I love you!" she blinked stupidly at him.

"I know." he shrugged simply. "But I don't love anyone." he made a point to look at both women.

Dent look unperturbed. "Well, if I can't make you feel what I feel, I can at least throw a wrench in your plans." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun and his coin. "So," he continued, "Who's first?" His eyes landed on Tanya and he flipped the coin. "Miss Heathrow, heads you live, tails, you die."

Tanya watched it sail into the air, her fate glinting in the fluorescent lighting, suspended in slow motion. Jack watched it, unmoving. Tanya was stricken with fear. Maybe she had misread him, maybe he hadn't changed. The coin was coming down now, into the open palm of Harvey Dent. His fingers stretched outward toward it, a blissful, almost peaceful expression on his face.

The coin slipped into his outstretched grasp. He looked down at it.

"Tails," he smirked, raising the gun to Tanya. There was a sharp intake of breath, from who Tanya didn't know. She stared down the barrel, flashes of family, loved ones and good times flipping through her mind like a slideshow. Dent's finger twitched and Tanya shut her eyes. It was all over.

A loud explosion rocked the building, blowing out the windows near the ceiling. Glass cascaded to the ground, bouncing off and drawing the attention of all in the room. The gun fired, the bullet sailing toward Tanya. It failed to strike home, instead hitting the leg of her chair as Dent jerked his arm in surprise. The wood splintered and collapsed around her and she fell backwards to the ground, free of the ropes that previously held her. She hit her head on the wall and saw spots for a moment.

Tanya could hear the sounds of mass chaos around her. Dent was swearing and yelling; Harley was screaming in horror, but Jack was strangely silent. Tanya turned her head to the windows in time to see a black figure soar through the now open space, wings unfolded in blazing glory.

The Batman landed in the middle of the room. Jack looked at him for a moment.

"Fuck man, could you have cut it any closer?!" he shouted finally. Bruce just looked at him.

"Sorry."

The interaction took only a spilt second and then the two men launched into action, Batman taking off after a fleeing Dent, Jack running toward the woman he loved.

* * *

**A/N: Almost there. It's a cliffhanger I know, but soon I'll have it finished. Thanks to all the reviewers!**


	20. Flight and Fight

Batman was running through the dark corridors of the building they were all in, Dent in sight just ahead of him. He was thankful he had convinced Jack to wait long enough for him to get the schematics of the building before they burst in. He nearly paused, thinking about how close he had cut it. He hadn't meant to be delayed, but something had caught his eye as he had climbed into the building. The whole building had been wired, rather crudely, to blow.

Dent was shrewd and cunning. He had no doubt he had suspected the Joker to pull some kind of rescue mission. And as far as infallible planning went, the Joker was the reigning king. Dent had gotten himself an insurance policy. Even if Tanya had been freed, he had been prepared to bring the whole building down on top of them.

Dent's resentment ran deep.

Batman had defused the timer on the bomb, then hefted it carefully up the side of the building and threw it through the window. It had served its purpose, exploding beautifully, showering the room in glass. He had glided in after the explosion, landing gracefully on the floor. He always did have a flare for theatrics. People underestimated the intimidation factor of a grand entrance. It was enough to startle Dent into shooting sideways, missing Tanya. He trusted that she was in good hands. And so, after offering his brief apology, he took off after the man he had once hoped would let him hang up his cape and live a normal life. Since that original plan had taken a dastardly turn, plan B was in effect. It was time to either turn him sane or shut him down.

He knew in his heart of hearts it was the latter.

Dent was fast, Bruce noticed. He was dipping in and out of corners and hallways, Batman close in pursuit. Bruce pushed more energy into his sprint, leaping forward and tackling Dent. They hit the ground hard, an "oof" leaving the lungs of the man who had just been hit with over 200 pounds of pissed off, body- armored, vigilante.

"I've got you Dent," Batman growled, "Give it up." Bruce inwardly cringed at the sight of the scarred man underneath him. He hadn't liked the man for the simple reason that he had dated Rachel, but he had respected him, admired him even. That had all changed. He now pitied him. He had put too much hope and trust in this very breakable man. Narcissistic as it sounded, he was stronger than Dent ever was. Dent crumpled under pressure, under the loss of everyone he loved. Bruce didn't. Dent would never take his place as Gotham's knight. Bruce realized that now. Dent looked up, the crazed light glowing in his eyes. He began to laugh, not like the Joker, but more of a sinister cackle, his teeth bouncing against each other and clattering roughly. It was like nails on a chalkboard.

"Oh no, I've got them all by the balls," Dent smirked. "You included."

Bruce had a sinking feeling in his gut, knowing that the bomb at the door was just the beginning.

"What are you talking about?" he shook the man roughly.

"You've all got a fifty-fifty chance of making it out of this alive. I suggest you call Gordon." Dent resumed his crazed laughter. Bruce's eyes widened slightly, but he gave Alfred (who was listening in via his mask) the affirmative to do contact the Commissioner.

They would play Dent's game for now. But one thing was certain. This was all ending tonight. They started this mess, him, the Joker, Gordon and Dent, and they were going to finish it.

Down the hallway, Tanya was sitting up dizzily, rubbing her head. She looked up in time to see Bruce taking off after a cowardly Dent. She looked around frantically, trying to pinpoint her other enemy. Quinzel was running up the rafters of the building, swinging her body limberly around until she hurled herself gracefully out of the now shattered window. Tanya's eyes widened, both impressed by the gymnastics display and determined to make the woman pay for all of her abuse. She began to sat up, but discovered that one of her legs was still bound to the splintered remains of the chair. She shook it off, tangling herself further.

Broad, tan hands reached down to help her untangle herself.

"Are you ok?" the voice was deep and soothing. Tanya sighed in relief.

"I'm fine Jack. Are you ok?" she lifted her eyes to meet his.

He exhaled, running his hands over her limbs, unable to take her word alone. "I'm fine." he answered quickly. "Did the fall--"

"Hurt the baby?" Tanya finished, sitting up straighter. "I don't know." she felt her stomach gingerly, realizing nothing hurt or felt off. "I don't think so. I'm wearing the armor thing still." Jack placed his hands over hers, sighing in relief. The makeup had smeared further and was running down his face, pooling in the creases of worry along his forehead and mouth. To Tanya, the makeup had lost its fearsome appearance. It was almost comical now, how ineffective his scare tactic seemed to her. His eyes gave him away; they were that warm almond brown, the color they never had been when he was the Joker. Not that he hadn't done a good job of pretending earlier. It had fooled Dent.

"The makeup was a nice touch," she said, inspecting his face. He made a disgusted face and shrugged off his violet jacket.

"I hate this shit now. I can't believe I wore it for so long. It serves its purpose though." he admitted grudgingly. "I don't need it anymore." he buried his face in the fabric in his hands, wiping off the offending cream into it. When his face emerged, mostly clean, he looked happier. Tanya ran her hands through his hair, gently smoothing it down. She smiled. He looked like Jack now.

He was pulling her to her feet gently, his arm around her waist to support her.

"I'm sorry it took so long," he apologized, all but carrying her down the hallway toward the exit. "The Bat had to plan out every exit and entrance." he sounded irritated, but as they made their way through the complicated building, he had to admit it had been a good idea. Tanya smiled weakly at him and clutched his arm tightly, like she was afraid if she let go he would disappear. He gave her hip a reassuring squeeze.

"Harley got away." Tanya remembered suddenly. "She was up in the rafters somehow."

"She's a gymnast. Or she was." Jack steered them left.

"How do you know that?" Tanya tried unsuccessfully to keep the edge out of her voice.

"She kept mentioning it. Bitch won't shut up about herself if you let her get started. I couldn't ignore it all. Plus, that particular skill of hers helped get me out of Arkham."

"Well, isn't that good for you?" Tanya pouted, attempting to jerk away from him. He held fast to her.

"Tanya, I escaped to come for you. I didn't give a damn about her, never did, never will. It was always all about you." he stared hard at her, forcing them to stop their movements. "Alright baby?" he asked. "It was always and will always be only about you." Tanya nodded, feeling a little ashamed by her blatant jealous behavior. But in her defense, Harley had been planting seeds of doubt for hours now.

"Ok." she leaned in and kissed him. "Thanks for coming for me," she whispered against his lips.

"Of course," he made it sound like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Now let's get out of here." he pulled them off again. A minute or so later, he stopped and pressed his hand suddenly to his ear. Tanya noticed that their was a small, flesh-colored device in it. She stared curiously at him, not liking the sudden look of surprise flickering over his face. She assumed Batman was telling him something. He cursed angrily under his breath.

"What?" Tanya asked, concerned.

"Looks like Dent had a backup plan that was bigger than just getting back at me."

"What?!" Tanya panicked. "What does that mean?"

"It means that he wired half the buildings in this damn city to blow. He's going to flip a coin. The Bat says he's going on and on about how its all of Gotham's fault. How the citizens are to blame too."

"To blame for what?" Tanya's voice shook slightly.

"I don't know!" Jack practically growled, but noticed her startled response and softened his voice. "I don't know. I guess for all the crimes in this city. He's putting them all on trial."

"How could he have rigged that many explosives?" To pull off something like that Dent would have needed time and massive connections.

"Harley probably helped him. All the damn thugs I had always were jumping at her beck and call. She's not against using her body to get her way." Tanya once again frowned in disgust, but decided not to interrupt again. "Probably got them to do it. Probably thought I would be proud or something." Jack trailed off, a nearly murderous glint in his eyes.

"So what are we going to do?" it was a simple question, but legitimate nonetheless.

"The Bat's got some plan. We're going to get you back safely, then him and me are going to finish this. And don't argue. You cut it close enough tonight." he shot her a warning look. Tanya nodded. Her eyes suddenly welled up.

"So," she swallowed thickly. "Is this the last time I am going to see you?" Jack didn't answer, but he did stop them again. The two shared a long, heavy look before he pulled her into a searing kiss. He pressed her back against a wall, pulling her as close to him as possible. In response, Tanya clawed at his vest and dress shirt, returning his affection full force. They drank their fill of one another, forgetting where they were, determined to make this last moment alone count. It could have been minutes or hours before they broke apart. Their kiss was interrupted by a frantic call through the device in Jack's ear. Bruce was yelling at him so loudly Tanya too could hear him, snapping them out of their private moment.

"We're coming damn it!" Jack snarled. He looked back at the woman buried in his arms. "I love you," was all he could think to say, the finality of what the next few minutes could hold drowning anything else.

"I love you too." That was all that mattered to her, all that mattered to them both. She stole one last sweet kiss. He nodded solemnly, looking like he was debating saying something else. Apparently he couldn't get it out because he just started them down the hall again.

It took another minute or so to get out of the back doors. A car was parked there and Jack hastily made his way to it, pushing Tanya in. She could faintly hear Bruce's frantic voice coming through the earpiece again.

"Fuck!" Jack cursed again. "Tanya buckle up!" she didn't need to be told twice but quickly clicked the buckle into place just in time. Jack swung the car into drive and tore them around a corner just as a small fleet of cars pulled up. They opened fire. Jack pushed her head down roughly, holding her out of the line of fire. Noise exploded everywhere as did bullets, bouncing off of the car and surrounding sidewalk and asphalt. Jack tore around another corner, coming bumper to bumper with another group of cars. They were surrounded. Jack looked around, searching for an out. There was none. Tanya looked up at him fearfully.

"Jack…" she whimpered.

"It'll be ok." he cut her off. "You'll get out this." his lack of confidence in his own survival was obvious.

"What about you?" He just looked down at her.

"Tanya, promise me you'll do exactly what I say. Even if it's run and don't look back." Tear welled up, but she nodded anyway.

"I promise." He reached over and unbuckled them both.

"Do you have your bullet proof vest on?" She nodded. "Alright." He pressed his lips to hers in a rough kiss.

"I love you." she whimpered.

"I love you too, and the baby. Save him ok?"

She nodded. "Now run and don't look back. He threw open his door then hers. Tanya looked at him in horror. "GO!" he yelled. With one last look at her, he pushed her out of the car. She hit the asphalt on all fours and narrowly avoided being run over as Jack threw the car in reverse and plowed into the cars behind him, taking about four of them out. Knowing there was a limited time to try and save herself and their baby, Tanya pushed herself up and took off running, ignoring the bullets and the fact that she may have just abandoned the man she loved to his death.

Her feet pounded the pavement, running blindly, her only objective to get as far from the danger as possible. The stark reality of her situation, that she could lose the baby's life is she didn't run, pumped adrenaline through her veins, spurring her forward. Her legs were sore, her feet hurt too, but she didn't care. She tore across an empty parking lot, then into a narrow alley, twisting and turning until the sounds of the guns were just faint pops in the distance. She spotted a door to her right and hurtled herself through it, uncaring what the building was.

It was pitch-black on the inside. Tanya groped the wall, searching for a light switch. She located it and flipped it upward. One by one the industrial lights clicked on, illuminating the contents. This warehouse, unlike the others, was not abandoned, but housed a soda pop factory. Tanya made her way through the machinery and racks and racks of orange pop in glass bottles. Winded and thirsty, she snatched one, justifying that hydrating herself and the baby were more important than the ethics of stealing a bottle of soda. She pried the top off with a corner of the table and took a long pull. It was sticky and warm, but it did the job of coating her dry mouth. Satisfied, she took in her surroundings, searching for the nearest phone. She needed to call Bruce, Alfred, Gordon, anyone, and let them know where she was and what was going on. And she needed to beg Bruce to save Jack.

She sped up her footsteps and hurried to an office in the corner. The door was locked but she picked the lock easily with a bobby pin in her hair. She swung the door open and lunged for the phone on the old wooden desk, knocking a stack of papers aside in the process. Thanking God there was a dial tone when she pressed the clunky, plastic apparatus to her ear her fingers flickered over the buttons, dialing the now-familiar number.

"Hello?" Alfred's cockney accent floated through the earpiece.

"Alfred, thank God!" Tanya exclaimed in relief. "It's Tanya. Everything went terribly wrong! Jack got captured, I don't know where Batman is or Dent and Quinzel escaped--" it all came tumbling out in quick, panicked secession.

"Miss Tanya slow down!" Alfred commanded. "Calm down and tell me, where are you?"

"I don't know. I'm in a soda pop factory." she paused to look down at the bottle in her hand. "Charlie's Choice," she read the label off of the generic-brand drink out loud.

"Alright," Alfred was shuffling around. "I'm going to send Batman to get you. Hold tight."

"No!" she all but yelled into the mouthpiece. "I mean Jack is in danger. I'm safe. Have Batman save him."

"Miss Tanya," Alfred cut her off. "You are the priority here. Jack is a grown man and can handle himself. Besides, both men would be upset if they neglected you to save the other." what he was really saying was that there was a snowball's chance in hell that Batman would rush headfirst into gunfire to save the man who started this all in the first place. "Now," Alfred continued, "Batman is coming for you. Stay hidden. He should be there shortly." Tanya swallowed.

"Ok," she stammered, tears welling in her eyes.

"Miss Tanya," Alfred said gently, "He would not have wanted you alone in danger. He will be fine."

"Thanks Alfred," she knew the older Brit was right. It didn't make her feel any better though. "Stay on the line with me, ok?" she asked pitifully.

"Of course," Alfred replied. "Would you like to know what's going on out there?"

"Yes."

"Batman had Dent, but it seems Dent has rigged explosives to blow all over the city. I believe what you and your counterpart got caught in was the crossfire between the police and Dent's thugs. The authorities are doing their best to defuse the situation, but I'm afraid the former D.A. is one step ahead of us. He seems to have thugs posted at a number of locations around the city. I believe he is putting Gotham on trial. He's flipped a coin to see which are blown and which aren't. When Dent sends word, the thugs are to blow up their respective building. Two have already been blown. One was a section of the mall and another was the theatre downtown. We don't know how many have been killed."

The news made Tanya's knees go weak. She sunk into the chair at the desk, her head in her hands. "I thought Batman had Dent. How is this still happening?"

"It seems," Alfred's voice was heavy, "that Dent premeditated much of this. Apparently the coin was already flipped, now he is just carrying out the results. Batman handed him over to the police who have him in custody, but the explosions are still going. The police just managed to stop him from blowing up a park on the lower South side of the city."

"The children's amusement park?" Tanya asked in horror. Dent's insanity was beginning to take a different shape. He had unleashed his hatred and bitterness on the city now instead of just limiting it to personal enemies.

"The very same. He is out of control." that much went without saying.

"So where is Batman?"

"Trying to stop explosions before they happen. And as for Jack," Tanya inhaled sharply, unconsciously holding her breath. "The police scanner reports that they have him and Dent." So he was alive, but already in police custody. Tanya bit back tears.

"At least he's alive," her voice sounded quiet, even to herself.

"Yes." Alfred replied. A loud crash startled Tanya. Someone had knocked over a stack of crates filled with soda. They collapsed to the ground, exploding in waves of orange liquid and broken glass. "What was that?" Alfred asked.

"One second Alfred," before the older man could respond, Tanya sat the phone down on the desk and stood up. She clutched a heavy paperweight in her hand and went to the open door of the office, looking out tentatively. Nothing. She exhaled and lowered her makeshift weapon. False alarm. The crates must have been stacked crookedly. She turned around to pick up the phone again when something grabbed hold of her hair and pulled sharply. Tanya let out a cry of pain but reached behind her, grasping her attacker's hand and flipping them over so that they were on the ground in front of her.

A streak of blonde whipped over her head as Harley Quinzel twisted with a ballerina's grace in the air, landing gracefully in front of Tanya. The small woman reached for the phone.

"Tanya's busy," she said with faux-honey in her voice. The blonde hung up the phone and looked back up at her.

Tanya didn't hesitate to exchange cutting wit or threats of "stay away from my man." The bitch had to be dealt with and dealt with now. She lunged for her throat, taking Quinzel down hard to the ground. The smaller woman twisted and evaded, leaping out of the way before Tanya could pin her. She executed a series of perfect back tucks out of Tanya's reach.

"Too fast for you?" she simpered snidely. Tanya growled.

"Nice tricks. Too chicken shit to fight me." Harley's eyes lit up with fire.

"You wish." she snarled, taking the bait.

"Then come down here bitch, and let's finish this." Tanya stood up. Harley leapt for her and Tanya met her halfway. The fight was vicious. Harley got in some good hits, but Tanya was more strategic, countering her blows easily and giving back as good as she got. Harley was fighting in blind rage, but Tanya kept herself semi-calm, remembering she had a baby to protect as well as herself. The body armor she was still wearing took the majority of the other woman's blows, frustrating the doctor. She lunged for Tanya's hair again, a sure-fire way to cause pain. Tanya countered with a right hook to the side of her face, knocking the woman flat on her back. "Get up, bitch!" she yelled, aiming a kick to the woman's side. Harley flipped her leg up and kicked Tanya back full force in the leg, knocking her to the cement. Tanya growled and went for her again. She was aware of a sudden noise growing in the rear of the warehouse. It sounded like the police had arrived. There were men's shouts and screams of "get the bomb!" Tanya ignored them. The fighting women toppled backward into a worktable, knocking it over and pulling a bunch of tools down on top of them. The metal pinged as it bounced off of the concrete, rolling over the smooth surface of the floor. Tanya hit Harley again, this time knocking the woman into another stack of crates. She looked up in time to see a force of SWAT officers running in. Harley saw them too, and before they could reach the women she toppled the crates down in front of the doorway, effectively cutting off the men.

"Let's finish this," the blonde screeched, running at Tanya again.

It was as if someone had muted the world. All sense was dead to her . There was no crowd, there was no bomb, there was no warehouse. There was only the struggle.

She scuffled and rolled, scarcely feeling her limbs connect with concrete and discarded steel pipes. The only thing she felt was the sheer adrenaline pumping through her veins as she landed blow after blow. Her opponent was not the only victim. She too was taking a beating. Her arms and legs showcased a myriad of crimson scratches. Her clothing was torn and ruby droplets stained the material at her shoulder where she had been bitten.

This was no schoolyard scuffle. It was a brutal battle, with both sides intending to kill. Eyes were blackened, lips spilt, hair pulled. The fight raged on, no end in sight.

A particularly vicious kick to the torso landed her on her back. The world momentarily slid into darkness, but was quickly regained. Her opponent was above her, giggling like a mad man. Hands closed over her throat with the intention of killing this time. As the entrance to her windpipe became constricted, black and white spots danced in front of her eyes. Flashes of the last few hours, the last few weeks, filled her mind: the ultrasound, Jack's face, Bruce, Jim, Harley's jealous cackles. Red chased away the black and white as unadulterated rage filled her. She grasped the short length of lead pipe near her hand. She swung without discretion or mercy, connecting with her assailant's head. Her foe collapsed, dropping like a stone to the smooth, grey floor. She kicked the body aside and rose, blood pumping furiously in her veins.

She looked down at her vanquished foe, makeup smeared and marred by blood. The rest of the world returned in a flood, like water bursting forth from a dam. She was cold, she was tired, and she was in pain. As she stood, knuckles raw and bloody, her body sore, beaten and bleeding, the din of alarms and terrified screams raging in her ears, Tanya Heathrow couldn't help but think that she had won the battle but had lost the war. The SWAT team was blasting their way through the crates in the doorway now, trying to get through.

Tanya knew she couldn't afford to let them find her. She lifted herself up again and ran like mad. She didn't know where she summoned the strength to go on, but she did. She hurtled herself out of the room and into a stairwell, knowing without being told that she needed to get to the roof. She took the stairs two at a time, bursting at last through the metal doors to the roof. Below her she could hear the shouts of the police. She ran to the edge of the building, looking for an out.

It came in the form of a newly-constructed tank driving off the roof of a nearby building and landing near her. The top slid back and Batman was revealed.

"Get in," Tanya jumped in, watching the police burst through the door. The tank closed and Bruce through it in gear, hurtling them over the roof and to the ground. He was taking out the cars of thugs as he went. "You ok?" he asked her.

"I think so," she was out of breath and deadly tired now that she had a second to rest.

"Dent escaped police custody. Apparently he took a page out of the Joker's book and let himself get caught. He had Gordon."

"And Jack?" she asked, the hint of panic back in her voice.

"He escaped too. Went after Dent. We have to find them."

"How many more buildings have been blown up?"

"Just one. I think we've found all of the bombs." Tanya nodded. A ring went up in the tank, signaling an incoming call. "Go ahead Alfred," Bruce pushed a few buttons and Alfred's voice rang out loud and clear.

"Did you get Miss Tanya?"

"I'm here. I'm alright." she spoke up.

"Good." Alfred sounded relieved. "What happened?"

"Quinzel." Tanya offered only the name as an explanation. Bruce shot her a look.

"Where is she now?"

"Unconscious in the warehouse, I guess." her tone suggested that she didn't want to talk about it.

"Good, the police will get her," Bruce nodded and looked back to the road.

"We have a bigger problem now." Alfred explained. "We found Dent."

"Where is he?"

"He's in Gotham News' headquarters. So is Gordon."

"How do you know?"

"He's broadcasting it live across the city right now." An image flickered to life on the screen in front of them, revealing Dent standing in the newsroom holding a gun to Gordon's head and rattling off crazed demands. Tanya gasped. Bruce didn't say anything, just flipped the tank around and took off in the direction of their new destination.

"I'll drop you off along the way," He told her.

"No, there's no time," Tanya argued.

"She's right," Alfred interjected. "he's threatening to kill Gordon right now if you don't show up. He wants to end it all. He's calling you and Jack out." Bruce nodded solemnly.

"Alright then. Let's end it."

Tanya watched him, marveling at the irony that this saga was going to end where it began for her.

* * *

**A/N: Oh my gosh, that was a long one. I was going to have one more chapter, but obviously there was too much to cram into this chapter alone. So it looks like there is going to be one last one and an epilogue. And oh my goodness, 100 reviews! That's the most I have ever gotten and way more than the first one. Thanks for motivating me to write one of the most complex stories I have ever written. And thanks for making me write a sequel. Hopefully it doesn't disappoint. We're almost done. **


	21. Sunset: The end of all things

Bruce drove the tank into the parking garage of the Gotham News building. He contemplated plowing the tank right through the wall and into Dent. That would end the situation quickly. He glanced at the small television on his console. Dent had Gordon right next to him. He scratched that plan. Instead he pulled it as close to the door as he could. He turned and looked at Tanya. The woman had been eerily silent the whole ride. He imagined that this all was a lot to process for her. She had just been kidnapped, escaped, watched the man she loved get captured, fought off Quinzel and now this. Not to mention she was pregnant, hormonal, and probably unsure of whether her fight had harmed the baby. And even if they did make it out of this, she would be raising a child with no hope of its father being around. He felt for her; he really did. But now was not the time to dwell on the future. If they didn't act now, there would be no future for them.

"Tanya," he addressed her, but dropped the "Batman growl" he so often used in costume. She looked up at him, obviously startled out of some private musing.

"Yes?" to her credit, her voice didn't waver or crack. She was a tough woman.

"I'm going to get out here. I need you to get to the cameras and turn them off while I distract Dent. Can you do that?" He knew that in her condition, this was asking a lot. But whatever went down in there, the citizens certainly didn't need to see it. Tanya understood this. She nodded.

"Yeah. Should be easy enough. I need to get to the control room though, so I can shut it all down."

"Alright." Bruce leaned down and began fiddling with some controls. "When I get out, the tank will take you there. Get out and turn it off. Then come right back here. No pit stops. Wait for me inside of the tank." he instructed. Tanya again nodded.

"Good luck," she offered. It seemed an odd thing to say. They were all going need more than luck; they were going to need a miracle. But Bruce swallowed and nodded.

"You too," a lot went unsaid, but somehow the pair knew that the other was thanking them for being there the past few months. Bruce gave her one last look and she graced him with a small, albeit weak, smile. He flipped the hatch open and in seconds he was out and Tanya was alone. Almost immediately after Batman vacated the premise, the tank launched into action. It rolled forward without Tanya touching anything, heading for the back of the studio. Within a few seconds it was there and the hatch slid open. Tanya hopped out and quickly made her way toward her destination. The control room overlooked the newsroom studio. It sat up near the ceiling, accessible only by one elevator. Tanya hurried toward it, praying no one would hear the elevator as it made its accent to the second floor. She snuck down the hall and to the door.

Thankfully the control room was devoid of anyone's presence. Tanya opened the heavy soundproof doors and crept in. She heard the door hiss and click behind her. She turned and threw the lock. The computers and monitors blinked with a cheerful familiarity. It had been a long time since she had last been here. It was surreal, how a year ago her biggest worry had been editing a news package on time to be live at five. Now she was in a world of worry. She quelled these thoughts and rushed forward, her fingers flickering over the buttons easily. In a minute she had cut off the broadcasting signal. She left the camera's running though. The lights would all still be on as though Dent was broadcasting, thereby not arousing his suspicions. She watched the monitors, seeing Bruce sprint into the room. She knew that she needed to get back to the tank, but she hesitated. In the tank she would be blind, having no idea what was going on. But here, she could watch. The door was locked, the glass was thick enough and tinted so it would shield her. And she could listen and watch what was going on.

She sat down. Her mind was made up. She reached under the desk, pulled out thick headphones and slammed them over her ears. Instantly, the sounds of the main news room filled her ears. Bruce was talking.

"Let him go Dent. We've already been through this."

"Yes but you cheated. The coin was tails. But you cheated!" Dent sounded hysterical. Gordon spoke up next.

"Dent, you're not this kind of man. Let it go. It was no one's fault."

"You're wrong! It's always someone's fault. It was this whole damn city! But you thwarted that plan too. And now someone has to pay!"

"What about all the people you killed?" Bruce roared. "They were innocent!"

"No one is innocent!" Dent yelled back. "And I will pay for my sins. We all will. But not yet. Not until--"

"Not until I get here?" Jack's voice announced his presence before he stepped in front of the camera. Tanya's heart skipped a beat. He had clearly escaped police custody. It didn't surprise her; he was an expert at it after all. She was just happy to see him alive and mostly well. His face was bruised, his clothing torn, but he was standing erect and proud, looking at Dent with a disdain that was unmatched.

"You showed up," Dent smirked, "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Let the commissioner go. This is between you and me." Jack took a few more calculated steps toward Dent.

"It's between all of us." Dent argued.

"No," Jack had his persuasive voice going full force. It was the same voice he used when he had first approached Dent in the hospital. "It's between the two of us. I tried to kill you; I set up the plan of action that killed Rachel," Dent and Bruce both visibly tensed at this, "I tore this city apart; I pushed you into insanity; I created this, all of it. It's between you and me." Gordon looked floored at Jack's words. They were spoken with a regretful sincerity that couldn't be denied. Tanya leaned closer to the monitor to watch.

"So you admit it's all your fault?" Dent questioned triumphantly.

"Oh, it's your fault too Dent," Jack advanced again. "You're the one holding the gun."

"You made me this way!" Dent shouted in an accusatory tone.

Jack laughed, a bitter, throaty sound. "Didn't have to try to hard did I? I did more to him," he jerked his head in Batman's direction. "Then I ever did to you. Sure, I killed your girl. But you broke. You could have just killed me in that hospital and have been done with it. You _chose_ to be like this. I didn't force you. You made a choice."

"We all did." Batman's gravely tone interrupted. "We all did what we thought was right. You, me, Gordon."

"But this," Jack butted in, "is not right. And you know it."

"What would you know about right?" Dent snarled at Jack.

"I know I've done a lot more wrong than right. But at least I can own up to it."

"You took everything from me!" Dent yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. Gordon, still trapped with a gun to his head, winced.

"I did." Jack agreed easily. "This is between you and me. Let Gordon go." Jack's voice was forceful but imploring. Dent looked conflicted.

"Let him go," Batman spoke up. "You're not this Dent. You're not a murderer. You've done enough. We've all done enough. It's time to end this." Dent was sweating, his eyes flitting quickly from face to face. It was like the world stood deadly still. The quiet was almost suffocating.

"Alright," Dent consented minutes later. "But what's fair is fair." he reached into his pocket and pulled out his coin. Bruce felt like his world was experiencing some sick déjà vu. He watched Dent flip the coin, his other arm tight on Gordon. He looked at the result, but kept it to himself. Without warning Dent fired the gun straight up at the control room. Tanya saw him raise is gun just in time to throw herself flat at the ground, yanking the headphones with her. She hit the ground hard, the thick glass shattering after one, two, three bullets ricocheted into it, knocking the sharp pieces across the technology. Sparks and smoke sprayed up.

"Tanya Heathrow!" Dent's voice rang out loud and clear. He was calling her out. Somehow he knew she had been up there. She heard a scuffle over the din around her, then Gordon's grunt of pain. "Tanya!" Dent cried her name out again. "Get down here or I'll kill them all!" Jack was swearing and yelling, trying to get at the man with the gun. Bruce grabbed him, holding him back. Bruce had no doubt that Dent would indeed kill them all, leaving no one between him and Tanya.

"Wait," he growled at Jack. "Just wait for the right moment." Jack stopped struggling quiet so hard, but Bruce didn't relinquish his hold on him. Jack's eyes were trained at the control room. He could see smoke billowing out of it. A million fears raced through his mind. What if Tanya was hurt? He struggled again, but this time in the opposite direction. Bruce's grip tightened again. "Look," he instructed.

Jack did as he was told. He glanced in the direction of the elevator. All four men's eyes trained on the numbered display above the elevator doors. The number two was no longer illuminated. In seconds, floor one lit up and a bell rang. Even under the din of the control room, even through the heavy, panting breaths of all present, Jack heard that bell ring as loudly as ever. To him it sounded like a warning bell. His heart dropped. The doors slid open and revealed Tanya. She was standing up tall and straight, but her eyes held an intense fear. She glanced at him for a moment, her look saying a thousand words at once. Jack reached out for her but she stood just out of arm's length.

"I'm here. Now let Gordon go." She kept her voice steady. Dent smiled.

"Tanya, no--" Gordon tried to protest but Dent shoved him forward and hit him in the head with the but of the gun. Gordon slumped unceremoniously to the ground, unconscious. The commissioner was down for the count.

"You took everything from me." Dent was talking directly to Jack. "Everything I loved. I'm returning the favor." It all happened in a moment. Dent raised the gun, this time at Tanya. Jack was running straight for her. Bruce had let him go and was lunging at Dent. The gun went off before Tanya could even react.

Tanya screamed; Dent disappeared behind Jack, then Bruce. She hit the ground, Jack on top of her. Blood drenched her shirt and splashed up into her face and hair. The gun went off a second time. Tanya couldn't see. It was all red, all pain, all screams of horror and sounds of anguish. Jack's weight was crushing her, suffocating her. She flipped them over. Jack's head hit the ground, his mouth was open, taking labored shallow breaths. Tanya looked down, horrified to see a hole in his chest just below the heart. The bullet had ripped through his back and into him. The bullet that was meant for her. He had taken it.

Oh God. She looked over her shoulder in panic, desperately searching for Bruce. He was bent over someone else. Dent was down too. She turned back to Jack. Blood pooled around him, growing steadily. She was kneeling in it, it was on her clothes, her hands, everywhere. Jack's blood. It was warm. She grabbed his hand, tears distorting the pained image of his face.

"Jack," her voice was raw. The tears bubbled over and spilled freely down her face, dripping onto the prone form of her lover. Jack's eyes found hers. Despite the severity of his situation, they were still filled with that warm light that shone only for her.

"Hey Tanya. You ok?" he wheezed out. Tanya cried harder.

"Jack…" Tanya desperately searched for something to say. "You shouldn't have--"

Jack laughed. It was quiet. A small smile graced his lips. "Yeah I should have. I wasn't going to let you take that bullet."

"I have the vest on. I could have-"

"Tanya," Jack cut her off with surprising force. "He was aiming for your head." Tanya just nodded, the tears spilling faster now. She caressed his face gently, with loving care.

"Thank you." she leaned down and whispered. She squeezed his hand tighter and twisted her free hand in his hair, running her fingers through it the way she had every night they had spent together.

"Of course," Jack's voice was fading and his breathing was even more labored. Tanya could feel Bruce moving behind her, but she kept her eyes on Jack.

"You saved us. The baby and I." Jack smiled at the mention of the baby.

"Name it after me," Jack continued. "Even if it's a girl okay? Name her Jackie.." he was cut off by a series of powerful coughs. With each exhale, blood forth more forcefully. Tanya brought her hand up quickly to cover the hole.

"Okay Jack. Okay. Just hang in there. Try not to talk. We'll get you some help." she looked back quickly. "Bruce?" but Bruce was already there, kneeling next to her.

"Tanya. It's not going to help. He's bled too much."

"No." she protested in a calm voice. "No, we can save him." Bruce looked sadly at her.

"Tanya," Jack grabbed her hand again. "He's right. I'm dying baby."

"Jack no…" tears garbled her words.

"Hey," Jack brushed her hair back. "We all have to die at some point. I got to redeem myself this way." Tanya moved, straddling him and pressed her face to his.

"Jack, I'm so sorry." she cried in his ear.

"Don't be. You saved me. Now I get to save you," His voice was fading fast, but he clung to her hand like it was his lifeline.

"I told you; you already saved me." She kissed him, willing him to understand this final thing.

"I meant to ask--" he launched into another coughing fit, the force rocking his entire body brutally. "What did I save you from?" he whispered for her ears alone.

"From a life without love," she responded easily and kissed him, pouring everything she felt for him into it. When she pulled back, Jack was staring at her with a strange intensity. He smiled one last, genuine smile.

"You're going to be a great mom," he whispered into her hair. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jack. I love you so much. I always will." his body shuddered again. Tanya held him, silent tears coursing down her face. He held her back, his grip gradually weakening until his arms fell limply from her. Tanya let out a primal sound from deep inside. She clutched his body, but it was no use. It was cold, all his life ebbed out.

Jack was gone.

Tanya sobbed, running the tips of her fingers over his scars. Damn those scars. She kissed them, then his lips. For the first time, Jack didn't respond. Bruce was pulling her up now, away from the lifeless form.

"Tanya…" he muttered. But she just kept crying. She was shaking, her whole body heaving with the loss. "You have to calm down. For the baby…" Bruce rubbed her back. She knew he was right. With great difficulty, she calmed her breathing, but continued to cry.

"I'm sorry." a voice wheezed behind her. She spun quickly to see Dent. He was laying on the ground too, bleeding as freely as Jack had. He had shot himself in his attempts to shot Tanya. Ironically, the bullet had struck the side of his face that was scarred. He was laying on it, only his uninjured side exposed. His eyes were full of remorse. Tanya could hear sirens faintly in the background. "I didn't know you were pregnant. I'm sorry for everything." Dent's body shook. Tanya looked down at the monster that the Joker had created. He looked more man now then ever. Even more so than when he was the city's white knight. He was a man, collapsed and defeated under a pressure he could never handle. Tanya looked him straight in the eyes.

"I forgive you." she said evenly and sincerely. Dent seemed to smile for a second and then he too, was gone. Tanya looked at the two bodies, their blood mingled together. She prayed that Dent was sincere in his apology. Both men, ultimately, had been saved. She had won the game.

But Jack was gone. The battle was won, the war lost. She sobbed again, distraught, when something tickled her. She knew somehow, that it was the baby. It was just a flutter of motion, so delicate she might not have noticed. But it was there. Jack was there, inside of her.

"Tanya." Bruce grabbed her. He had Gordon over one shoulder and a tape in the other hand. Tanya knew it was from the camera. "We have to go."

Tears still flowing, Tanya nodded and took one last look at the prone form of the father of her unborn child.

And then the three of them were gone, leaving in their wake the shells of Jack, formerly the Joker and Harvey Dent, formerly Two-Face.

The game was over.

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**A/N: And that, my friends is the angst-ridden end. An epilogue is on it's way. I know that the ending was sad, and possibly unexpected, but I had planned it that way for a long time. It didn't seem right to take the character any further. Please, please, please drop a review and let me know what you thought of it, even if you are pissed. And thank you all for your continued support. The epilogue is on its way. **


	22. Epilogue: Dawn at Last

Tanya shifted the child in her arms. Her child was really getting too big to be carried all the time, but Tanya had a habit of sheltering her a bit. Besides, if she put the precocious tot down, she would spend the next ten minutes chasing the kid down again. She was going to be late enough as it was. She sped up, hurrying to her car. She deposited the toddler into the car seat, the dish into the trunk and herself into the driver's seat. Her parent's wouldn't be too pleased if she was the lone person who held up Thanksgiving dinner. God willing one of her sisters would be later than her; after all, three kids were harder to wrangle than one.

As her trusty Honda putted down the road, she felt herself relaxing. The picturesque scenery rolled by, red-gold in the height of fall. Vermont really was a beautiful place.

"Mommy!" the bubbly squeal of the tiny girl in the backseat interrupted her musings. Tanya glanced back in the rearview mirror and smiled at her daughter. The little girl returned the sentiment, revealing two straight rows of brand-new pearly whites.

"What sweetie?" Jacquelyn Matilda Heathrow, born two and a half years ago and the apple of her mother's eye, gestured excitedly at the car window.

"The leaves, they're so pretty!" her smile grew, deepening the dimples in the little rounded cheeks.

"Yup, they sure are honey." without realizing it, Tanya adopted her "mommy tone" the well-practiced art of speaking to her toddler. Jackie was her mother in miniature, all curly hair, pouty lips, dimples and long lashes. There were three differences though: the cocoa of her mother's skin had melted to a peanut butter brown, her eyes were a startling shade of hazel and her smile, well, her smile consumed her face like her mother's never had. In fact strangers often remarked on how happy a girl she was and how beautiful of a smile she possessed. No one suspected who she had inherited it from.

Tanya had left Gotham before her pregnancy had begun to show, in fact, she had left the very night it had all ended. It would not do for her to come to court, the felons were already dead and there was little she could contribute that another couldn't. Bruce had sent her away, flying her out on his private jet to a house he had set up in Vermont. When Tanya asked him why he would go to such lengths for her, he simply had told her that she was a friend, and always would be. He had also added something about a promise he had made to keep her safe at all costs. Neither spoke of who had secured said promise, but Tanya knew. And so, with a tearful hug and a thank you, Tanya started her new life.

Bruce kept her up to date on the things the news didn't show. It had stung to see the celebrations that sprung up after Jack's death, the bitter words which she knew he had earned. Dent's death was slightly more controversial; Gordon was unconscious and there was no evidence or witnesses that were alive. The public clamored (as always) for the Batman to come forward and testify. Bruce didn't on the grounds that the public was idiotic and would be calling for him to save him soon enough. He was off course, correct, as another criminal, this time masquerading as "the Riddler" came forth. But that was another story.

In the absence of witnesses, and based on evidence that only Dent had touched the gun that had fired both rounds, it was ruled that Dent committed a murder-suicide. Quinzel was committed to the institution she once worked at. The case died down, Gotham began the process of rebuilding itself and the world literally began to get back to normal. The citizens forgot the lessons they learned and began turning back to crime. Tanya couldn't help but think, as she watched the national news, that perhaps the Joker had been right. But then again, some people were coming forward and fighting fiercely for what was right. It gave her hope.

It was this hope that kept her going. It was hard, grieving for someone no one knew existed; it was hard carrying a child to term alone; it was even harder raising her. But Tanya wouldn't have traded it. She loved her daughter; her life was for her now. She glanced in the rearview mirror again at her laughing child. The smile was on her face again, those hazel eyes sparkling in mirth.

It was moments like this where she knew Jack never truly left. He was there, hiding in plain sight, in the eyes and smile of Jackie. It helped ease the pain.

She turned her car into the driveway of her parent's house. She had come clean to her family about the truth of her relationship with Jack. They had been disturbed, then bewildered, but eventually they accepted it once Jackie came screaming into the world. They had all relocated to be closer to her and to better protect the secret. They all whole-heartedly agreed that no one was to know, most of all Jackie. Tanya realized she had broken her promise to Jack by telling her family, but she saw no other way. She needed someone, Jacquelyn needed someone, and she would not isolate herself and her daughter from people who loved her.

She lifted Jackie out of her car seat with practiced ease and set her down. Her daughter immediately scampered for her grandparents and Aunts in the front doorway, squealing in delight. Tanya greeted her family, her nieces and nephews, brothers-in-law and sisters and of course, her parents. They chatted, catching up on the last few weeks that they hadn't seen each other. Jackie was tumbling with her cousins already, wrinkling the dress Tanya had took such care to iron and starch that morning. Tanya watched her and shrugged it off; she had long ago realized that keeping her daughter in unwrinkled clothing was a pointless endeavor. At least she had gotten a picture earlier.

She was helping set the table when her phone rang. Glancing at the number she excused herself and went outside.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Bruce," she greeted once she was comfortably nestled on the porch.

"Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Tanya," it was nice to hear his voice again, especially sounding so happy. The last few years hadn't been easy on Bruce either, but he had adopted a young teenager, and orphan like himself. The boy, Dick Grayson, kept him company and had even become his sidekick after discovering the caves. A partner helped ease the loneliness, especially since he had yet to get over Rachel.

"How are Dick and Alfred?" she questioned.

"Good. They say Happy Thanksgiving. They're coming out with me this weekend." It had become a tradition for Bruce and Alfred, and now Dick, to fly out and spend the Saturday after Thanksgiving together in their own belated holiday. It was a joining of people who shared a secret, and had become a surrogate family because of it.

"That's great!" it was. Tanya hadn't seen them in months.

"Someone else wants to come up too." Bruce added slyly.

"Who?" Tanya couldn't imagine anyone else who remained in Gotham who cared enough to visit her.

"Jim." Tanya's heart skipped a beat. No one had known what happened to Jim and eventually people assumed he was either dead, or didn't want to be found. Apparently he had found Bruce. Bruce continued, "I ran into him last month. Turns out he's been lying low for the last few years. Be pieced together most of our secrets. He hasn't told anyone in the last three years, and I didn't confirm anything, but he wants to see you. Is that okay?" Tanya thought long and hard about it. Could she risk another person in her life?

The answer came in the voice of a man who had long departed. "Yes," it said, speaking directly to her heart alone, "he's a good man. And Jackie needs a father." Tanya's heart skipped again.

"Yes. That's fine." She knew if Jack could handpick a stepfather for his daughter, it would be either Jim or Bruce. And she and Jim had history together. Somehow she knew it would all work out.

She chatted lightly for a few more minutes before hanging up. As she sat down to the table for prayers and dinner, she looked around at her ever-growing family.

And despite the absence she still felt daily, Tanya Heathrow knew that there was much to be thankful for.

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**A/N: And there it is, folks! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. You guys have been great, first reviewing Death Becomes Her, and then urging me to write a sequel and finish it. I am truly thankful. I hope I didn't disappoint. I gave Matilda Ledger a little shout out there; she's such a cute little girl. Thanks to you all and God Bless!**


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